The Fault of Humanity
by theprecisionofavillain
Summary: Loki/OC. The Fall of The Avengers. It does have a certain ring to it, don't you think? What started as a complex plan of obliteration turns into a simple task of survival and those who fought for the good are left to question - is it really the side of the good? Loki is the man - god - with a plan, but nothing ever goes according to plan, does it?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Trouble With Green-Eyes.

"Well, well, well." The man with the peculiar green yet dark eyes drawled out teasingly, "You wish to disappear?"

I tried my best to look as confident and fearless as possible, compared to this 6"2 mystery, I wasn't much but I squared my shoulders and held my head high; no mysterious man with weird hair was going to make me back down. Not tonight.

His eyes were certainly green, yet I still had my doubts... They seemed to glisten more than they should, but I pushed unnecessary thoughts to the back of my mind to focus on something more significant.

Like being a vulnerable teenager stranded late at night with no help at hand.

I mentally shook myself as his words registered, they had surprised me and gave me the urge to run in the opposite direction or lose my shit and scream profanities. I mean - seriously - how the fuck could he know what I was doing?

Two possibilities: 1) He was a superhero or 2) An alien.

I kid.

I wanted to disappear, that much was correct. The stranger had my attention, congratulations mister fuckface.

My attention had run out and I was an angry person, forgive my sins and all that shit.

It was almost midnight, I was in my local 24/7 supermarkets empty car park and I had no idea who this British guy in a black suit and trench coat was. Black trench coat.

I turned to face him, straightening up and suppressing a yawn. Sleepless nights were no stranger, and the fact that everything had been building up to today didn't help in the slightest.

Aren't nightmares delightful?

"Not all questions have definite answers." I replied, raising an eyebrow. I was wasting time, I needed to go... But something about this man was too familiar, too peculiar. Frustrating.

I had no reason to tell this stranger anything, so I simply avoided the question, watching as my answer caused his lips to form a damn pretty smile - not a smile of normality in which we all do, his smile was one that hid a thousand lies, endless possibilities and plans unknown to the rest of us.

I was observant.

God damn this guy caught my attention, not for the way he looked, but most definitely the way he held himself.

His form was relaxed yet he held his head high, not to intimidate but for comfort. His shoulders were squared, and his composure firm.  
Imposed. Like that of a soldier.

Dramatic as it may seem, anyone able to read a face could distinguish that. He made me feel on edge and he was certainly untrustworthy.

Despite the fact he was too formally dressed to be in this part of the city, he was easily blending in with the shadows.

Fucking ninja in a suit. Just what I needed.

I fought the urge to ask him if he was lost, trying to contain my facade, as this man had also done. Two could play at the 'I do not give a shit' game and I had a winning streak to maintain.

But then again, who stands in Northern England wearing an expensive suit in a quite dangerous area.. Did I mention in a car park?

Or parking lot. English people were weird.

Considering that, I was merely 19 yet I was talking to him. Not once had I mentioned the possibility of wanting to disappear, yet my current situation left me confused clouded by curiosity. No-one I knew could possibly know that I had, in fact, planned to disappear. But it's not as if I had friends.. Or family. And college had lost it's taste.

"But isn't that what you desire?" He smiled, twirling his fashionable cane.

Why was he so suave?

That wasn't fair.

I could tell he didn't need the cane to support his weight, he just simply wanted it. If I was any other, I would be largely intimidated by this man.

No, not a soldier. He was too.. Practiced. A soldier wouldn't waste time dwelling the unquestionable.. In a car park.

"We all desire what we cannot have." I sighed, ending the conversation. I didn't like it.

He was wasting my time, I had things to do.. Places to leave. I turned on my heel but felt his presence to the right of me as if I had simply invited him on this unavoidable adventure.

I wasn't going home, hell no.

I wasn't going anywhere. This man made me feel uneasy, and I wanted to leave. Which was rare, I never felt uneasy.. I never really gave a shit.

Ooh look at me, pretending to be all badass - no, you misunderstand, I was seriously lacking shits to give.

I heard his footsteps next to mine, his expensive dress shoes weren't exactly quiet. I refused to glance at him, though I could see him twirling his cane in his shadow. He walked with a skip and I stopped.

Definitely not a soldier.

"What?" I asked, holding eye contact solidly.

I wasn't the sort of person to back down, I knew I acted too confident on the outside, but sometimes that's what you needed in an area like this. Most of the time it rendered in me gaining trouble, most of the low IQ simpletons around here didn't seem to know when they would lose a fight.

He glanced at the open night sky before looking back down at me, as if he was bored of waiting. Well then.

"Where are you going?" He eyed me suspiciously as if he knew I, indeed, had nowhere to go. But he knew nothing.

"Home." I dragged out loud, testing the word in my mouth.

I didn't really have a home.

"You and I both know that is a lie." He said, the side of his mouth stretching into a half-smile.

Damn tourist.

"Enlighten me, stranger." I rolled my eyes, I had nothing better to do, so why not accept an offer of stranger hospitality?

Unless he was a serial killer. Or a kidnapper.

Meaning I probably had no way of escaping considering I was a teenage girl and he was a grown man. The words sounded strange when put together in a sentence, yet for some idiotic reason unknown to me, I stopped to talk.

"Well," He glanced around before leaning against the metal fence of the car park in a slacker fashion.

"You're rather young, and don't deem to be the fighting type. You don't have much..." He eyed me, "Muscle."

Fucker. I narrowed my eyes at him, though he was correct. I didn't look very strong.

I didn't look very strong.

"No offense," He held up his hands in mockery, "You're a defenseless child in a dangerous environment, solitary and unarmed."

"Your point?" I argued, not everything was how it seemed, most definitely in this situation.

"You're not heading home, sweetheart." He smirked in that British accent of his, "You're heading as far in the opposite direction that your puny legs can decipher."

I tried to contain my amusement but couldn't help the smile that crept onto my lips. He had meant to be intimidating - and believe me, he was - but the man as a whole...

Entertained me.

He raised an eyebrow, regarding my reaction to his words. He'd caught my attention, I was amused. Which was rare. It's not often I met someone worth talking to on an intelligence level, I liked this guy.

"Except in my case," I sarcastically smiled, "I'm not the peculiar one."

He opened his arms as if to say 'entertain me.'

"Well, look at it this way," I started, "You're an adult, I'm a young woman. We're in a.. Difficult area and you're the one making conversation with me. Or should I say bothering me?"

He looked at me blankly as if there was no such crime, yet the odd passerby looked at me with a slight horror. Thanks for the help, assholes.

"You're not exactly kind and unbothering," I held up my hands to mock his previous action, "No offense."

"Ah, but dear girl, there is no one around who would lift a finger to intertwine." He answered.

Probably a serial killer.

He looks like he'd enjoy the killing, not kidnapping. I sighed; he was right, everyone around here cared more for the well-being of themselves than that of someone who could be helped.

What can I say? Survival of the fittest, and I was most definitely surviving, no matter what sacrifices I had to make. Or had already made.

"You're not going to try kill me, right?" I said in a tired monotone; I was not in the mood for fighting, or running, "Like, I really need to get going so I can be as far from here as possible before the sun comes up, and it would really be a damn shame if you caused me a delay."

He gave me a deranged look, glancing one last time towards the sky and walked gracefully to the front of me, as royalty would do.

Royalty.

I am, indeed, a genius.

This man held himself in a royal demeanour, yet he wasn't a part of Britain's royalty. But he had a British accent.. My confusion was breaking it's flood gates.

I knew this man wasn't faking his accent, but he must have been royalty. He wasn't foreign.. But he wasn't.. Oh.

Either my skills had started to lack, or I had hit my head. The only 'reasonable' explanation would be that he wasn't British.

He wasn't from England. Or Earth.

Or actually real.

I'm unsure of whether or not I had hit my head, I must have. I could be just imagining this whole ordeal and people were looking at me weirdly because I was talking to myself.

I stepped back tiredly, remembering back to when I fought bigger. That was a comfort.

I'm not one for sharing my past, considering those were the happier days.

A stupidly long story short: I trained since I could walk, how to fight and defend, how to think correctly in peculiar situations. How to inherit the famous family ego. My dad was the reason for that, he moved with my mum from America to here because of his dad.

Jeez, my family sure was a happy bucket o' steam.

My dad died six years ago, I'll save you the heartache. His brother, my uncle, was the reason for that.

And yet my uncle still shines on in America, despite the fact he's hidden that it was his fault for my fathers death, but I got over that.

Or rather, I forced myself to save it for another day.

Nothing could change my hatred towards my uncle, for the next time I saw him will be too soon. He may have been my uncle, but he was no family of mine.

History lesson over for now.

The 6"2 green eyed - and still nameless - man looked down upon me, and I stared back up. Though there was a meter gap preventing any sudden and uncalled for movement between us both, the tension was small and almost humorous; like we were two friends.

"My dear, dear Amelia," He deviously smiled, his grin flashing his white teeth, "I can tell we'll get along just fine."

He grabbed a hold of my shoulder as my heart sunk into my body further and a soaring light forced my eyes shut..

What?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Question Upon Question. Upon Question.

"Wait, what the-" I stopped to seal my lips right in fear if throwing up. I hated throwing up.

I could still feel the touch of his hand grasping my shoulder tightly as if letting me go would cause me to implode. Now that you mention it-

I gritted my teeth as a distraction. I guess distractions could be both good and bad, considering I wasn't spewing up my insides.. Which was always a positive. I think.

The air shifted around me and I felt suddenly nauseous as if my limbs could no longer hold on to my torso, and my organs were no longer situated within me, but floating within me.

The horrible soaring light cut out almost suddenly, so sudden that I barely dared open my eyes. I couldn't see, but I kept blinking trying to recall my senses. I was breathing, I was warm, my mouth tasted stale and there was a small ringing in my ears.

So I wasn't dead.

My feet were on solid ground and I felt dazed. Trying to push aside the questions that lined my brain. Even the air felt different, almost weatherless.

I clenched my jaw tight to look up at suspect number one - that fucking man had just a few simple questions to answer - just as the corners of my vision went black and my balance found fault.

Before I could even make my usual - yet humorous - snarky comment about life and idiots, I felt my legs give out as if no longer able to support my weight.

Everything felt as though in slow motion as my gaze drifted to the nearing floor, my head felt fuzzy and my eyelids were dreadfully heavy.

Did I forget about taking some hallucinogenic?

Before I landed in a surely painful heap on the ground, I felt two arms slide under me and my fall halted, I tried to conjure words but my tongue felt too thick and heavy, but I managed to take note of those green - most likely - eyes as I was being carried to somewhere unknown to me. Again.

This was definitely becoming a dangerous habit of mine.

I awoke in a frenzied fury, sitting directly up in a cold sweat, as if waking from a nightmare. What the absolute fuck just happened to me and where in fuck was I and how the fuck did I pass out and why the fuck am I wearing a different pair of clothes?

I was in a bare room, laying on a bare bed.

This was like I had awoken into a nightmare, much good that did to my mental state of mind.

Well this is just fantastic, a - strange - man I met in a parking lot knew my name, despite the fact I hadn't used my real name since I was 13. Even so; what the actual fu-

I needed a swear jar. I didn't even have money for a swear jar.

My brain was a blurred mess of who, what, where, when and how. I tried to calm myself down as my heart rate began to quicken as I panicked. Calm down calm down calm-

I launched myself forward from the bed, my breath turning ragged, I stood up and tried to give myself myself a pat down, but I stumbled and used the wall for support before I fell.

What was happening? I fell over my own feet, I never make stupid mistakes yet I was allowing myself simple stupidity. How the hell did I manage to get myself here?

No.

No words could possibly conjure the unbearable confusion and curiosity that overwhelmed my being. But I had to push that aside, I had to lock it up and move on.

Regret was a useless emotion yet I felt myself drowning in it, how could I have become so stupid? I began to pull myself together, okay. Okay.

_Okay._

I took a moment to collect my thoughts.

Why am I not freaking out again? I was in a parking lot, in Leeds, in Northern England, in Britain.

At midnight, with some weird guy. Maybe I was freaking out.

A little.

Where the hell was I?

Maybe I was tripping. God dammit Amelia, sort yourself out. But considering I had began to curse myself out loud, I definitely considered the possibility that I had lost all reasoning with sanity.

I walked over to the silver metal door hesitantly, unable to find a handle of any sort. Well isn't that lovely? There was no fucking handle to the dandy little room I had awoken in with no recollection of anything.

I raised my arm to touch the door, unsure of what other options I had left to consider... Which was none - which was great - I was completely helpless in unknown territory.

Before my hand could make contact with the metal, it started to fade away.

I widened my eyes and my jaw dropped into an 'o' shape, it was disappearing before my eyes. The particles of the door just.. Fell apart and faded. Like horizontal evaporation...

Except the door was most certainly solid and I most certainly lived in a world where mind-fuck occurrences like this did not happen.

Well that fucked logic right in the ass.

I was too in awe of the weird door to instantly notice that a man was standing behind it... I was really beginning to let myself slip, I've been in too many situations where my hesitation would be the cause of my death.

I narrowed my eyes at the golden armour-clad man and stepped forward, though I had never seen him before this moment, I refused to be the one to back off.

He also stepped forward. Feisty.

"Please stay situated within your room." He ordered, he looked like he was from the 1600s and had gotten lost.

He could have been a cosplayer - I'd heard those guys were weird - but I couldn't find a logo on his clothing and the fabric was definitely unknown to me.

He looked like he should be security, but the sword hanging by his side begged to differ.

Sword.

"Or what?" I pushed, readying myself for any movement.

I needed space to manoeuvre myself, but I didn't back down. To back down was to surrender, I had other things in mind. Of course I did, it was the family trait.

Without blinking, without any trace of emotion on his face, he stated, "Or I will be forced to take unnecessary actions."

"Ooh, threats." I enlightened sarcastically with a cock of one eyebrow, "On our first date? This has escalated faster than the usual."

His face flashed confusion, giving me the time needed to kick him between the legs. His hesitation was the fall of him.

I heard the faintest of echos in the dark and abandoned part of my mind. The part of my mind where I dared not venture, a part holding everything that I was.. Who I was. My secrets, my everything.

I tried what I had been taught, no matter how much it pained me. My uncle had a friend, a _spy_ friend, who both taught and fought me. His voice sounded in my brain, like it was yesterday I had learnt with him.

In actuality it had been years.

_"A kick between the legs causes your opponent to bend forward in pain. This gives you the opportunity to slam their head against your knee, which would cause unconsciousness; their brain slams against the front of their skull and then boom, they're out for the count. Got it?"_

I grabbed the not-maybe-security guys hair and pulled him down towards my knee as I brought me knee upwards, hearing a slight crunch as my kneecap collided with the top of his nose. Satisfied with the end result, I allowed myself to breathe steadily one more.

I guess the training came in handy a lot. My uncle had a couple of spy friends, but being both a billionaire and a nationwide murderer came with its perks now that I thought about it.

I shouldn't be thinking about it, distractions get people killed.

I shrugged my shoulders as I stepped over his unconscious body. It was neither mine nor his fault he was laid there, it was the mystery man who brought me here.

Recently he had been the main cause of all my problems, and I must have met him mere hours ago. I think.

I forced my feet forward and refreshed myself of my unfortunate situation, remembering ways to obtain slight advantage. Pros of being a girl, your opponent doesn't suspect a thing. Advantage number one.

I emerged into a long corridor, lined with doors similar to the one that had faded.

"Right foot left foot," I ordered myself, "And now you're going fucking crazy."

I paced myself to the end of one side of the corridor, walking straight into two very tall men.

At least 6"6 in height, looking more like security than the unconscious man in 'my room'. They were carrying guns, rather large guns. I didn't like guns. They hurt.

And that armour looked impenetrable.

"Ah." I let out.

They both looked to the other for confirmation - dimwits - and reached out to grab me as I stepped back as quickly as I could manage without falling over myself.. Again. That would have been rather embarrassing.

I held out a finger to stop them, and they stopped with a quizzed look plastered on their faces, these weren't exactly the smartest of people; the trick was to outsmart them, once you did that, your strength in combat was insignificant.

Advantage number two.

"It seems that we have reached a predicament." I stalled, rolling back on my heels, "Two grown men against one small girl? Is that what you call honour?"

I took in their firm appearances, and the way they had literally marched around the corner.. Trained in combat.

Trained to look smart and intimidating.

They also looked like men of pride so, obviously, I used this to my advantage. The darker haired one turned to the other as he shrugged his shoulders, and so the darker haired one stepped forward.

My method had worked and I now had the advantage of one-on-one, two-on-one was doable, but time-consuming and difficult. Advantage number three.

"Ah."

He reached out for me and I pushed away his hand in a quick movement, almost like a slap but too powerful. I was prepared for him when he decided a full on attack.

Preparation was always my number one rule, if I was unprepared, who knows what could happen? I could end up in an unknown area with unknown people looking for an unknown exit... Sound familiar?

Another mistake made by the opponent: don't allow your enemy time to think, because if they're smart, they'll grab the advantage.

Advantage number four.

_"The element of surprise, Amy, is your best attack."_

Useless fucking memories. I didn't need him. I didn't need any of them. I didn't need my uncle and his stupid gadgets and friends in high places, I didn't need his love and money. I was angered.

And then I grew more angry when I realised I was angry. Fucking emotions.

Emotions get you killed. Distractions get you killed. Everything gets you fucking killed and I was sick of it and I was also very pissed off. No wonder Barton was always so pissed off at everything, yet teaching me always seemed to be a happier place for him, he looked down on me as someone would a younger sister with nothing left.

_"Distractions."_ Piss off, right now was not the time.

Instead of defending myself, or moving away from his reach, I met him halfway and I punched my hand into the soft part between his ribs, as Barton had taught me could severely wind another because hello, that shit hurt. I used my anger to power my muscles.

Advantage number five.

I jumped back into a fighter stance, raising my forearms in front of my face to protect my head. Yet again I chose the element of surprise and uppercut beneath his chin, finishing it with another head-to-knee blow, which proved efficient enough considering he was now laying on the floor.

I uppercut him pretty well.. Mainly because that was the highest I could probably reach on these impossibly tall men. To bring them down to my size was my only option.

I got far too much of an adrenaline rush from this considering I was a teenage girl.

I lost my balance slightly and the remaining guard-with-gun took this as an opportunity to kick me in the chest backwards. I fell straight onto my back as I felt slightly dazed and had a small moment of 'what?'.

I noticed myself growling at my lack of commitment and my growing distractions. My uncle caused nothing but problems.

The man moved towards me as I sat up and I moved to the right, sticking out my leg and causing him to trip and fall onto his knees as I slammed my right elbow into his face.

God. People these days.

I heard his body hit the floor but I didn't bother to look as I leant against the wall, panting. The two patrol men were stood in front of a double thick-wooden door, more than likely protecting it, I should probably head in the opposite direction, which would be the most safest and smartest option to do.

But what could be so important behind these doors that it needed protecting by two highly trained, need I mention overly tall, men with semi-automatic guns. Also contemplating the fact that I was brought here against my will..

But curiosity killed the cat. I wasn't a cat but you get the idea.

I pushed open both the heavy doors with both hands like the badass I was, and let myself into the large room.

It took me a moment to blink. The opposite wall was lined with glass windows, and there were high tech computers lined around the walls of the room.. And flashing little lights.

I felt like I had accidentally stumbled upon the Enterprise, fighting the sudden urge to say something in a Russian accent.

Outside the window was... Well.

I gasped like a child discovering sugar and walked towards the glass, pressing my hand flat against it, taking in all the twinkles of stars in the distance, the clusters of galaxies that looked bigger than usual.

I was in space.

I was in a space ship.

Because I was pretty certain that big blue ball of glowing shit in the distance was Earth.

Did I hit my head or something? No. I'm on earth. This is all a big.. really realistic and immensely vivid illusion.

Don't do drugs kids, they make you think that you've left planet earth.

My eyebrows remained furrowed as I stepped back. I had to deal with the possibility that I was actually in space, thousands of miles from anything I ever could have called home.

Aren't people meant to miss their home when they're too far from it? It appeared that I wasn't even on my planet any more yet I didn't really care.

I could still be on my planet, this could be alcohol induced.

I mean, isn't that what I wanted? To run from who I was, to leave behind my poor excuse of a mother and go places to which I was unknown. To disappear..

I had disappeared. That son of a-

"We all desire what we cannot have," The all too familiar British voice sounded from just behind me and I thankfully refrained from jumping out of my skin.

I breathed out dimly, no words that I could possibly decipher would be able to respond to him, considering those were my words that I had said to him.

He stole my line. The bitch.

I turned around and took in his unexpected new appearance.

He was wearing black armour with shades of green.. And shoulder pads of a sort; but that sounds very childish, for I can not describe for sure what I do not know. It was most definitely built to protect his tall yet lean frame.

"Wise words," I began, studying his face for any indication of a lie, or the truth, "I wonder who you received them from."

He let out a small smile and we stood in silence for a few moments, I mostly stared at him, unable to blink, before he spoke, "Are you not going to ask me why it is that you are here?"

"Nope." I replied very formally.

I turned back to the window, or wall, or wall-window. I had no idea what I was doing, did I want to know why I was here? I enjoyed using reverse psychology, people disliked the fact I didn't care, and so they made me care by force.. Well tried to.

"I will not tell if you do not ask." He dragged on agonizingly slow, "I do not need you to know why you are here."

"You kinda do," I sighed, damn he was good at this, "For I'm not here for nothing."

He shrugged his shoulders and started to walk away, until I heard him pause and I smiled; I had figured he was the kind of guy who wanted things to run his way, but was a stubborn-ass idiot.

He enjoyed the power he had and he knew how to control it, unlike most powerful people who continuously thrived for more. He was definitely cautious, and someone to look out for. Sly and immediate.. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it.

"They were 3 of my finest guards," He informed, it sounded like a mere statement yet there was a hint of a compliment.

I turned back to him with a suggestive tone, "I think you need to get yourself some new guards."

Obviously in dislike of my humour, he let his face fall. Not everyone had the patience to deal with the likes of me.

"I put them there for a reason, child." He started, I could literally taste the seriousness.

I sighed.

Then his face softened as he realised that I, in fact, didn't care. It was like he was putting me through many tests of my person.

"I was amused to see what action you would take. You did not run."

I had, so far, passed each test that he had slyly set upon me. He hadn't killed me yet, despite the fact I can be an annoying mother-fucker when the time felt right. Which was always.

But if he had expected me to run... I was no child with a fear of what lurks beneath their bed. I wasn't a child born through naivety only having knowledge of what they have been forced to learn, not willingly taught. I had no fear, myself and this man were very similar, in the most different of ways.

"I am not a coward." I snapped.

Dammit, so much for staying emotion free there Amelia, well done. I forced my façade back up, today was proving difficult.

I will forcefully push myself through, I always have and always will. I am okay. I will always be okay.

He interrupted my train of go-team thoughts with something completely unexpected, it should have angered me, but the truth shouldn't anger me.. And I was concentrating on being emotion free.

"Unlike the one you call your uncle, then?"

How, how, _how?_

I repeatedly thought the question to myself. Too many questions were unanswered and all positive emotions that had ever been a part of me had now been replaced with pure bitterness, dark humour and anger.

He couldn't possibly know of my name, or my uncle, or me. Yet he the way he looked down on me was as if he knew my every secret.

He couldn't know who I was.. surely not. I wasn't exactly easy to find and the most confusing part was why he knew these things and what he wanted to do about it.

I was on a fucking spaceship.

Why was I here? Why had he gone to the trouble of pulling me from my not-so-much-life? There was no purpose for him in my life yet he stood before me with knowledge of me.

There was no need and none of the pieces would fit together in my mind, leaving me with a pile of broken puzzle pieces that left me frustrated.

But I would not allow him to have the advantage, I would not allow him to strike fear of the unknown within me. I would not allow him to act superior to me, I wasn't just another dumb shot of a human, I thrived for survival in a world full of the dying, in a world full of the survival of the fittest and I wasn't ready to lose just yet.

I straightened my shoulders and looked him square in the eye.

I was me again.

"Who the hell are you?" I more demanded than asked, I aimed for peace at mind, and that is what I will receive.

"Ah, finally," He grinned that sardonic grin, "I thought you'd never ask."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Painting, A God and A Story.

"You know my name," I asked, any sense of remaining humour gone from my voice, I was tired of his games - of this bullshit - and my patience had run out, "How?"

"I know a lot of things." He laughed airily.

He. Laughed. Like it was nothing.

He was trying to compromise me, anger me, strike something within me. I wasn't really one for games, though I did have a tendency to win, this man wasn't your average human... I tried to keep that in mind as our conversation went on. No alien accusations just yet.

"I'm sick of the games," I walked towards him with my head held straight and my shoulders squared as I was keeping the last of my dignity in tact, "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"You wanted to disappear, you should be thanking me." He smirked, teasing me with reason.

I almost choked when I realised that his eyes had a blue glint to them, because I if I recalled... They were green. Illusions. Had I accidentally eaten the wrong type of mushroom?

"I didn't need your help," I said as I stood in front of him, and that was no lie.

I was doing fine, I could have been gone from sight, and no-one would have found me. But nothing I could've done would have been successful as disappearing to this extent. I still felt as though I was in a dream, I knew not of anything like this happening in a normal, sane, life. Maybe it was just me.

He raised an eyebrow, pushing me on with unspoken words. He was thriving on remnants of amusement and it angered me that this was all just some game to him.

"Who are you?" I began my small line of endless questions, surely he would have to give me something to work on, he couldn't just keep me here and tell me it's what I wanted.

If I was to participate in this childish game, then it was to be fair.

"You would never believe me." He said with another sly smirk, yet it lacked some of its earlier victory.

This man was most peculiar.

It was something about the way he allowed questions to drip from each syllable that left his perfectly shaped lips that forced me into consideration that he wasn't telling me who he was out of...

Fear. But he wasn't a man of fear and so my frustration doubled. He was hiding who he was... More for my sake than his.

The tone had changed from humorous to honest, and my mind raced with results.

Every letter he spoke left a question imprinted on its surroundings. Was it difficult to be simple for once?

I narrowed my eyes at him, walking around in him a semi-circle as he followed me with his eyes, turning to face me, a small smile back on his face. His smile stretched further, it was...

Genuine. He was amused.

Bastard.

"Why am I here, then?" I asked, annoyance in my voice.

I wanted answers and I wanted them when I asked the questions. I was quite impatient.

Understatement.

"And that," He emphasised as he tilted his head slightly to the left, "Will all become clear in a matter of hours."

Well I didn't exactly plan on being here in a couple of hours, so I needed my answers now. Who planned any future on a floating boat in space anyway?

I was lacking many things:

a) Sleep. Sleep deprivation caused me to be a moody motherfucker, the last thing I needed was to piss of this man of insanity leading to the beheading of me.

b) Coffee... And/Or alcohol. I mean seriously, I wasn't some superhero.

c) Fucking. Answers. Dammit.

"Listen here, Mr No Name." I loudly spoke to address anyone who happened to be listening, "If you don't start giving me some answers, I'll-"

"You'll what?" He rudely interrupted in mockery, pushing me towards an edge with no way down but to fall.

But if I were to fall, metaphorically, I'm sure as hell not crashing alone.

"Who are you?" I demanded once again, beginning to grow frustrated with the lack of information I had received. I had been trained to interrogate by pulling the strings that I needed but this man was just fucking up my advantage streak. He was blank. Nada. Nothing to declare.

"I have tired of you." He said before making a swift movement with his chin, clearly signalling someone.

Two armed - and armoured - men walked into the room, taking each of my arms in theirs. La-dee-da-dee-bloody-da.

He wasn't some king that I had to worship.

The mystery guy turned and raised an eyebrow as he watched my reaction, did he expect me to fight? Or go reluctantly? Realisation hit me like cold water to a burn; this was just another test and I planned to pass with flying colours even though he seemed me the guinea pig

I sighed over dramatically and rolled my eyes. If he thought a child of me, why not play up to it? I was brilliant at games. Now the question remaining was that of 'should I resist them now, or wait until we're out of this guys sight?'

They pulled me with force, highly pissing me off. To be held against my will was one thing, but manhandling me was beyond it. They jolted me forwards causing me a slight pain.

In the ass.

I glanced at them both, with their smug and stupid faces and their smug and stupid helmets. I guess you could say I was slightly mad.

Fucking pansy's.

I walked forwards with them reluctantly and they loosened their grip, like idiots, thinking that I had given up. I let a few brief moments pass as they pulled me forward, thinking they were in control of this small, weak girl. Wrong.

I took one last look at the not-so-green eyed man, my hair falling into my face. He was smiling down on me as if I was some defenceless...

Human.

And I was tonight's entertainment.

Oh, I thought to myself, I was _certainly_ here to entertain.

He felt security in the power to control others, this much I was certain. He knew how to keep the upper advantage and controlled every aspect reacting around him.

Time to wipe that smile from his pretty face.

I dropped onto my knees with an attractive grunt and tried to rip my arms from my captures grip, only my right arm broke free and so I improvised. I thrust it into the man's 'middle' area and brought it back up to the man that still held my left arm, punching him in the lower stomach, successfully hitting one of the man's kidneys. I ripped my arm from his grip with some force and brought my knee to his stomach as I stood up. I hit him lower than I would've liked, not being as affective but still damaging.

_"When you can, always take advantage. Your legs are sturdier than your arm or hands. You have strong legs, Amy. Use them."_

Barton. His words rung throughout my head, despite my efforts to ignore it. Considering he had turned a blind eye on me when my uncle... Betrayed us... Me. I hated Barton almost as much I hated my uncle. Of course he tried to reason with me, trying to feed me a somewhat satisfaction as he continued to work side by side with my uncle.

I brought myself back into reality as one of the men tried to raise their fist. Hitting a girl? Have you no shame? I almost laughed.

I swung my right leg up and caught the side of the man's head; despite the critical impact of my heel to his head, his head smacked against the floor causing twice the damage.

"Ah, awfully sorry." I said down to him, spinning to meet Mr No Name.

I was actually curious as to what his reaction would be. but when I looked at him, there wasn't only one of him.

I shit you not. I saw multiple. Now I was definitely considering a small possibility I had been given drugs. Each illusion of this person was smiling.

I mean I wasn't complaining because the world needed more men with cheekbones like that.

I rolled my shoulders and slowly stepped forward reminding myself to keep a calm atmosphere. This guy could probably beat my ass blindfolded.

Firstly I wiped my eyes just in case I happened to be seeing things. At that he let out a small chuckle. I wasn't seeing things. I wasn't so stupid as to jump head first into a fight, especially when there was... Four of the same person.

I inched forward slowly, studying his reaction with each step as he could take any opportunity to kill me, though I'm sure if he wanted me dead he'd do it in a far swifter manor.

Like feeding me to a hoard of cannibals.

"Do me a favour and don't attack me." I said to him, "I'd appreciate a heads up."

I wasn't scared, I was... Curious. And prepared. Well as prepared as I could be considering he was 6"2 of pure hostility.

"Oh?" One of them said.

Yes, one of them.

I brought my hand slowly up to the image of him that had spoken and pressed my hand against his clothes... Surprisingly enough my hand went through him. I sort of expected that.

So either drugs or a projection.

I curled my fingers upwards and brought my hand back, testing this what-seemed-to-be illusion with my touch.

There was no rule book for this sort of shit.

"Yeah," I started, trying to find an appropriate sentence to fill the silence that occurred as I stared on, "No, I'm done."

I stepped back and there was only one of him remaining, he watched me, his face tight yet care free. I should have said something more literate but it seemed I was unable to form a smart sentence.

Another test that I had passed. I think.

"Party tricks." I murmured, slowly stepping back again.

The more distance between us, the safer I was. Or the safer I felt. Something told me that I could have Harry Potter's cloak of invisible-bullshit and he'd still find me.

This man drew me in, it was rare that I showed interest in something that was breathing and that man lacked normality, he was intelligent and somewhat sly...

"Who are you?" I asked loud and clear, expectant of an answer, but this time my voice was less hostile and more intrigued.

I made a mental note of how his eyes lacked the insanity look they had earlier, and were also still blue-tinted.

The urge to grab him by the shoulders and scream 'who are you?!' was overwhelming.

"What do you know of.." He began, watching my every reaction as each word left his tame mouth.

He stopped as if unknowing how to continue, he also acted as if he were walking on egg shells around me, which was very peculiar considering he need not impress and I opposed no danger. He wanted to inform me yet the words wouldn't leave his mouth, he was far too superior to stutter and so he allowed the stubborn look to fulfill his face once again.

I sighed.

"Okay." I let slip from my mouth, great, now I was the one taking it easy.

What was happening? It was crazy how immensely different the conversation was now that than of half an hour ago.

His face had softened and that worried me. What was he planning? He struck me as a person who thrived on being the cause for violence and yet was creeping on eggshells around me. As if I were going to strike out.

Well maybe.

If I didn't get more fucking answers.

"Okay?" He replied in a confused tone, missing the concept of what I had meant.

I understood. He didn't have to explain to me his life fucking story, I just wanted a name yet he was finding this more difficult than anyone should. Then again he wasn't just anyone. The word trickster came to mind but he was so much more than that.

"Yes, okay." I replied and watched the realization sink to his face and he shook himself, preparing to tell me something that could more than likely to very bad or good.

Silence fell between us and I couldn't bring myself to push at him or walk away. Just stare. Taking in his taller frame, his mischievous glint of a smirk and flick of black hair. His feet at shoulder length apart, his superiority.

"Shall we?" He asked and opened one arm to the back of him, obviously motioning for us to go elsewhere.

Trust a serial killer and you shall be killed. I looked at him and searched his face for any sign that he may of been, quite possibly, leading me to my death. Despite the fact that I didn't trust this guy, I walked forward hesitantly.

I was probably going to be killed and dumped in outer space but hey, not many humans could say that. He was a man of style, he wouldn't kill for no reason, he'd need someone to appreciate his work.

I couldn't appreciate it if I was dead.

Right?

He pointed to a door I was almost certain wasn't there previously, and I edged towards it.

He sighed, "Oh do take your time."

That's when the thought first hit me, like a mental brick to my brain.

How long had I been here? I remember the first instance here on the ship, I also remember passing out after my surroundings had significantly changed from a chilly car park to a more considerably warmer place.

I also remember two arms beneath me before I had managed to hit the ground painfully.

Why would he do that? He wouldn't care if I had a few bruises, or a couple of scratches, yet he went out of his way to ensure that I didn't fall.

He caught me.

Why?!

Because he was a scheming, mysterious, asshole?

He could be a bipolar superhuman...

I wasn't going to thank him, it was more degrading than anything. I remembered my task at hand and mentally pushed myself through the double wooden doors, carved with intricate symbols and runes.

What if he was an alien cult leader?

I spent more time than I should've staring at the intricate runes that lined the doors, and I allowed my hand to brush across them as I passed through. I snapped my hand back to my side when I noticed him watching me intently from the corner of my eye, he was more than amused.

He was... Fascinated.

The thought made me shiver and I focused on not childishly falling over my own feet as I walked into a bare walled corridor with the width of a room, yet it ended at a somewhat long length to the end of me. I glanced back to see him watch me walk further down, and forced my head back forwards, my cheeks burning slightly red.

What is this? Embarrassment? Stupidity.

The thought of being embarrassed at something so miniscule was the embarrassing part. I cursed myself and then almost stopped walking abruptly when I noticed the bare walls were not all that bare.

How had I not noticed this before?

There was an unnatural gleam to the walls and if I listened closely, there was a small hum being emitted from the wall. I raised my hand but almost jumped back when the wall began to hum louder the closer my hand became.

Nothing weird about this at all, nothing, at all. This was pure normality, yes, complete normality.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you." He informed from behind me, his head raised as he studied the wall with pride.

The peculiar walls were not what stopped me however, the awfully familiar painting perched so simply in the wall was.

It was... In the wall. Like it had melted within the wall. I stepped closer to the painting, taking in all the minor details.

The picture showed a dark and peaceful field, hills and the odd tree in the distance, but that was not the intriguing part. What caught my full attention was what seemed to be occurring atop the treacherous and thunder prone clouds. It was, what appeared to be, a battle. There were birds soaring between both cloud and the battle, as if linking the two realities of a

Godly land and reality.

There was three or four half naked women...

Warriors. One was aiming a bow and arrow, the other a spear of some sort. One man had hold on a falling woman, and there was another unconscious woman at the front of the battle, in the background were hundreds of men, looking somewhat outraged. In the midst of the chaos, was a man upon a horse, certainly more superior to his fellow men. Despite the battle, there seemed to be no enemy, they weren't fighting. The left side of the cloud was shadowed, and the men within the shadows appeared more... Skeleton like, weapons raised, against nothing.

I turned back to No Name Green Eyes, my eyebrows furrowed and questions slipping upon my tongue, only one was spoke out-loud though, "What is it?"

And before he could reply with some snarky and sarcastic comment, I added, "Apart from an immensely... Intriguing painting."

He looked from the painting to me, as though considering his options.

"Åsgårdsreien," He pronounced swiftly, "Formally known in Midgard as Odin's Wild Hunt."

Mid-what?

I took a small breath before I allowed questions to overrun me, I was to remain calm I repeatedly told myself. I glanced back at the painting, understanding that they weren't in battle, but in hunt. Hunting for what, though?

"Who are you?" I once again decided to ask. I had a feeling there were too many questions and too little time...

He studied my face with a blank look of his own, slowly looking around. "Will you allow me to explain?"

"Because I have oh so many places to go." It was my turn to smirk as he rolled his eyes.

And there we have it, humour from the serial killer. Or alien cult leader. Or bipolar superhuman.

There was nothing more awkward than being stood in an almost empty corridor talking about god knows what for god knows how long.

I let myself slide down the non-unique wall of the corridor, crossing my legs and waiting for him to do the same, but at first he frowned down on me as if it were above him, and then he too, sat down.

Ha.

He sat no more than 15 yards away, as if allowing me to keep a small sense of security. "So, who are you?"

There was a small silence in which he did nothing more than stare at me as though one word he spoke could disrupt the whole time and space continuum fantasy.

"My name is Loki," He stated firmly after a moment as I kept my gaze glued to his face searching for any possible signs of a lie or mockery, but I could find none.

Despite the fact I, whole heartedly, did not believe him, I allowed him to continue and he took my silence as a sign to continue.

"The man on the horse," He nodded to the painting, "That is Odin. The ruler and Allfather of the nine realms. I hope it is to your knowledge that I am merely touching upon the facts that surround us. I cannot bore deeper for the sheer fact I may kill myself in boredom."

"What is Midgard?" I slowly asked, because quite frankly nothing that he said could possibly be true.

"Midgard is the almost-center of Yggdrasil, one of the nine realms." He coughed a little, "Irrelevant. It is Earth. Are you not aware of any of the events that occurred last year in... New York?"

The name of the city sounded funny on his tongue, almost foreign.

I was fiercely studying him, because as much as I wanted to laugh in his face and call him a liar, I was not only above that but it was immensely strange that I was on a space ship, and I had instantly travelled...

Teleported.. No. Most definitely not.

Star Trek is fucking up my imagination. Unless I was in fact beamed onto the ship.

Sidetracked. Again.

"I.. Briefly know of the events that happened in New York, my uncle _tried_ to tell me." I informed, letting my head fall back onto the wall.

My uncle this, my uncle that.

"Ah, the uncle." Loki nodded in understanding causing me to frown, "Define 'briefly',"

"My uncle told me some shi- uh, things that may have happened. Mad guy tries to invade, the almighty heroes won and all that jazz?" My words were dripping with sarcasm yet I saw him slightly flinch at the word 'mad.' Was it my turn to strike nerves? Thankfully he had been too deep in thought to realise my slip in composure as I almost swore. I was working on it.

He seemed to regain himself though as he asked, "You don't sound awfully convinced."

"My uncle is many things. An inventor, a good one at that. A peacemaker, a hypocrite at that. But he's certainly no hero. Anyone can put on a metal suit and try to reclaim all the bad tidings they've caused." I tried to hold back my anger but it was clearly shining through my words, I had to stop before I began to rant.

And why was I sitting on a floor in a maybe-spaceship in a Star Trek throwback talking to some insane mundane?

We all get bored.

"So... He's no hero." Loki stated more than asked, almost interested in what I had to say.

I raised an eyebrow at his seemingly odd questions and decided against withholding answers, I of course, wanted some in return.

"Yes. He's no hero." I muttered, cracking one of my knuckles unintentionally, "Heroes don't allow their brother to be slaughtered at a fault of himself. No. My uncle was no peacekeeper, no matter what he does now, he's not regaining my forgiveness."

He noticed the emphasis on 'my' and before he could ask, I sighed, and answered for him, "My.. mother of course took his money, his forgiveness."

"And you?" He tilted his head to the side, fascinated as though gaining valuable information.

"I told him to shove the money elsewhere." I informed, and Loki was momentarily amused by my phrasing.

Jeez, this guy was a little tense.

I glanced back at the painting so that I wouldn't have to look back at him with a pained expression.

"And you? Any tragic family tales to share in this unique history lesson?" I threw out.

In return his gaze grew harsh, his face stiffening. I considered apologizing but what was the need if I didn't mean it? I did not care for this man's tragedy. I did not care for his life. He was keeping me prisoner if I remembered correctly.

"Somewhat." He began, "Another tale for another time. As I'm sure you'll understand."

He met my eyes, I hated the fact that he knew of me and so most probably my past, this wasn't exactly fair. I almost laughed in realisation, wasn't Loki the God of Chaos?

Master of Lies?

A trickster at heart?

Despite being sat on the floor, he still sat straight with one leg folded beneath him...

"Are you royalty?" I blurted almost too fast, I wanted to take advantage of the questionable discussion.

He hesitated before answering, "Yes." And so I didn't push him further, but then he asked "Heard of me, I presume?"

"Oh," I smiled, almost rolling my eyes, "Just the odd rumor, gossip, myth."

He chuckled a little and I felt a small buzz of pride that I had made this impeccably stubborn man laugh. My humour is unavoidable.

"Yet I deduced that simple fact in the parking lot, before I learned of 'who you are'." He cockily raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes, "I'm smart like that."

"Oh," He began, a darker tone ruling his voice, "I most definitely know of your intelligence, Ms Stark."

"Call me Amelia," I almost snapped, but I softened my tone and it sounded almost sarcastic. I did not believe any of this bullshit was a fair statement to believe.

I had a feeling that story time was over though, for he spoke no more.

Another question had yet again arisen, and this question was quite possibly the only question I honestly cared about in this lesson of antiques...

"Do you have any food?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Do Not Touch The Painting.

The following day I stood in the same peculiar corridor, looking at the same peculiar painting with the same peculiar expression on my face.

I was trying to grasp the obscene scenery of Åsgårdsreien but it was beyond my reach. Loki had stated they were hunting, but for what? I didn't know what it was about the painting, but I couldn't look away, I couldn't quite figure out what for.

There was still the possibility that I had reached insanity.

I had woken up to find that the wardrobe in my room had many Earthly clothes, also in my size. Somebody had changed my clothes after the night in the parking lot; I shuddered at the thought of someone dressing me. If someone had to dress me, that meant that the night in the car park must have been more than a couple of days ago.. I sighed.

On the door of the wardrobe was a note that read:

"Courtesy of Loki. I went to trouble to get these."

Suave bastard.

I could still taste last nights somewhat delicious dinner, I hadn't eaten all formally at a table as Loki had offered, I just shrugged and ate in my room. Away from anything weird.

The guards looked at me as if I may turn on them at any moment; they were most probably pissed off I could take out five of them.

I woke this morning with a large lust for coffee which resulted in an argument with the guard outside my door.

Apparently he had never heard of sugar, I had just scowled and drank the bitter coffee, giving the empty cup to him as I began my wonders. The annoyance on his face was priceless, he started to snap that he wasn't some slave but I hadn't been at all listening.

I considered looking for Loki, then having the realisation of 'why would I want to find the God of Mischief?' and decided to explore, my boredom getting the better of me. Surely if I was needed Loki would find me.

I had wandered unwillingly back in the control room, hesitating before I pushed open the doors that led into this corridor, to allow someone to stop me. When I heard no angst shouts or warnings, I had trailed down the corridor dazily, recalling what Loki had said about the painting.

And that's how I ended here, with an almighty urge to touch the painting once again, though last night Loki had mentioned not to touch the wall, nor the painting.

It was just a painting.

As I stared into the painting, my eyes wondered from corner to corner and I felt myself transfixed with the repetition. The painting didn't move, yet it captivated me like that of a good book. The painting screamed a thousand words and before I realised what on earth, or spaceship, I was doing, my right hand finger tips skimmed across the surface of the painting.

Oh, he was going to fucking kill-

"I certainly did not expect to find you here." Loki's voice sounded in my ears from behind, his sudden appearance startling me beyond comprehension.

I ripped my hand away from the painting and spun a little too fast to face him, becoming blessed with a slight vertigo. He was closer than I had expected and I -tried to - jump back to receive my own personal space. I think my sudden movements hid that I had touched the painting.

I was such an idiot.

Don't touch the painting. He had said it. And what did I do? I touched the fucking painting.

I was still alive so that was good.

Both of his hands were suddenly on my shoulders to steady me as he peered over me, looking at the distance between myself and the wall, despite only him being around five inches taller.

"Must you make stupid decisions without thinking?" He sighed as though I was a child and spun me to the side.

What was he-

I could hear the hum from the wall. Of course, how could I forget? I had almost ended up with my back to the wall if he hadn't have stopped me. The mysterious humming wall. I still didn't know what would happen if I touched the wall.. I yanked his hands from me and took a more sane step around him, he watched me carefully.

Firstly, I was no child. I was probably less of a child than half the grown men on my planet. And secondly, he had just sighed as if I was some naïve being and he was tired of my shit. My bad, wasn't he the one who brought me here?

Had I had any time to escape?

Annoyance flared within me and I refrained from making a cocky comment at his raised eyebrow. His hands hung stiff by his sides, un-expecting of my sudden retaliation.

He glanced down at his hands, as if surprised he had been the one to initiate contact. Because how dare he touch such a lower being than himself? My face hardened as I turned away to walk down the corridor.

I hated almost everyone, but it didn't symbolise that I thought myself more worthy than them as he clearly did.

I was far, far, less if anything.

By the time I had reached the doors to exit back into the control room, I took a short glance back to realise he had gone and sighed in relief. I considered storming back to my room but that was boring and I was bored. I sat in the control room which I was certain must of had people in to control the ship... But no. I sat half a meter away from the window and stared, there was nothing I could really do but stare.

The immense detail convinced me this wasn't some big illusion, I just wanted to reach out and-

A soaring pain burned through my right hand, from finger tips to mid forearm. I hissed slightly as I pulled up my hoodie sleeves to assess what the fuck was going on.

My veins throbbed a viscous black and I gasped; my fingers, minus thumb, had prominent veins beneath my skin, and they were shining a sickly black. I recalled the static sensation that had overrun my hand as I touched the painting.

That Loki had specifically told me not to. But I hadn't meant to.

I'm sure Loki would see it that way. I didn't even realise I had lifted my hand to touch it.

The veins stopped where my hand met my wrist yet the pain continued to tear it's way to mid forearm. The pain had slowed to a constant icy ache and I pulled my sleeve back down.. Lets keep this a secret for now.

I had dignity to obtain and a courage to prove, I wasn't going to let one mistake derive me from it. I was a stubborn mother fucker and that will probably never change.

Had that painting poisoned me?

Son of a bitch.

Time flies by when you're trapped on a spaceship. Literally. Or so I had thought.

I forced myself up to hunt down food, or maybe even some alcohol.

Can't blame me for trying...

I became lost in the maze of identical corridors until finally, I passed two guards outside another set of doors and I paused to glance at them, they stared back blankly.

"Hi." I addressed them both.

I had given up on looking for something to do and settled with winding up some human looking alien guys. They both ignored me and I tutted. How rude.

"Don't you get bored?" I asked teasingly. "Or hungry? Are you even human? Or alien? Wait, is calling an alien 'alien' rude? Because I'd also be pretty pissed off if some guy who looked the same as me called me an alien." I made a Spock sign with my left hand, grinning, "Equality."

They looked down on me un-phased by my attempts to piss them off. My smile fell. Stubborn-ass aliens. But I should not be underestimated, I thrived annoyance.

"I mean.. What makes a three thousand year old alien any different to an almost twenty version of me?" I continued to babble, one of them twitched slightly and I grinned, "How old are you? Oh, I get it. You're not allowed to acknowledge the prisoner?"

The one to the left of me let out a steady breath and I turned to him, "But if this is my prison, it's the most unique one I've to yet encounter... How old are you?"

"I am not obliged to answer." He stated firmly, he reminded me vaguely of one of the guards that stood aside Buckingham Palace.

Minus the furry helmets.

"What about you, blondey?" I turned to ask the other one who twitched again, oh, I was having fun.

"I am not obliged to answer." He copied and I nodded sarcastically in reply.

I saw him meet the eyes of the other one in annoyance. They showered themselves in their own pride, men like this were boring.

"So.. What are you.. 'Guarding.'" I cracked humorously, seeing blondeys hand tighten on his spear-like weapon.

They definitely thought themselves a higher intelligence than me - they probably were.

"I am not obl-" He began before I interrupted.

"If you say that one more time." I disrupted threateningly, urging him to do so.

A cocky smile grew on his face, "I am not oblig-"

I interrupted once again, but this interruption was due to my fist connecting with his jaw, he fell after a loud crack was heard.

That hurt my hand.

I tilted my head to the side as I looked down on this unconscious man and I could barely hold in my laugh.

I looked back to the other guard, who seemed to have improved from his previous "Oh my god what the fuck." composure. I raised an eyebrow, urging him on as I shook my hand due to the pain.

"Do you have anything to say?" I hinted, "Maybe a little differently?"

"Uh," He stuttered and I allowed a wicked smile to contort my face, I was definitely enjoying this. "I advise you otherwise." He decided.

He made no move forward to me and instead regained his security stance. It made sense that he probably had orders not to harm me, and so he could do nothing against me if I happened to become bored and search violence.

I childishly kicked him in the shin and he gasped in surprise, dropping his spear-like weapon and grasping his leg between his two hands. I drove my elbow into his face and then forced his head against the wall.

He groaned on the floor as I hadn't managed to knock him unconscious, I lacked skills, what else had I to say?

My training built my stamina, skill set, strength and battle intelligence explaining why I could take on bigger components, but that was currently down to out-smarting them.

These aliens weren't too smart, I had to admit. I didn't call them aliens because they were in fact, aliens. I couldn't know that for sure; I said it to refer to the whole of the ship despite myself.

Technically I was the alien.

I also didn't mean they weren't too smart as in dumb, they just made wrong choices on instant combat. If I were to face one of them when they were prepared and knowing, it would probably be a fair fight and I would most likely have more bruises.

Considerably.

The doors I currently stood situated outside actually had handles, I tried to open them softly but, surprise, they were locked. I had previously searched the two guards with my eyes for any clue of what they were guarding and they held no key. There was no key hole, either.

Things had gone differently than I had first planned; I wanted to amuse myself and tease them. Spark a fight in them and then have Loki appear and stop me. So far, there was no sign of Loki and I urged to learn of what was hidden behind these doors.

I tried the handles once again, pushing more strength into my arms but it wouldn't budge, even slightly. I sighed and raised my leg, this would definitely leave behind evidence that I was here. I was too intrigued to care, which happened to be my current mood upon this ship.

I drove my heel into the centre of the door, close to the handle. It cracked slightly and I did it again. And again. I let out a small grunt as I drove my foot into the door one last time and it gave way. I pushed on the door, stepping over the broken pieces of wood and emerged into a small room, which had yet another door. The room wasn't dirty, nor dusty, but it didn't look frequently used.

To my actual surprise, the second door was open. This probably meant someone was on the other side because it locked from the outside, and most likely because it was slightly ajar. I still walked through the door, looking for any sign that I was not alone.

Now this is not what I expected to see.

Books lined the walls and there were more stacks of books in the centre of the room, my eyes widened. What would someone like Loki want with all these books? I walked to the first book I saw and opened it, it had pictures of what looked like herbs. Or trees.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to touch what was not yours?" Loki remarked, I didn't turn to look at him, I just turned the book over in my hands.

I couldn't read the writing.

"Damn you and your alien necessities." I murmured, placing the book back down.

"How did you get in here?" He mused, but something told me he didn't mean it as in 'How did you get past my guards?'

"You might want to call first aid." I informed, but he didn't seem phased.

He was studying me.

"No, you misunderstand," He corrected, opening his arms wide, "How did you get in here?"

"I'm unsure of what you are referring to." I said slowly, feeling as though I was missing a large chunk of information.

"I spent a lot of time and effort carving runes into the surrounding areas of this room." He looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he then grinned with pride as if there was so much more to learn.

"There is a mental barrier on this room." He narrowed his eyes, "You should not have been able to enter without receiving serious brain damage. Only a person of magic may enter, I was alerted of your magical prescience from the barrier."

My face contorted into confusion, still not understanding. I hated the feeling of not knowing what the hell was going on, I just shrugged my shoulders, my mind slowly pinpointing the pain in my hand.

Touched by magic - oh. That explains it. I subconsciously pulled my hoodie sleeve down over my right hand, trying not to cause too much of a fuss. I still had no knowledge of why my hand was being attacked with gothic blood.

"Very well." He muttered, "As we're all sitting comfortably, we can continue with the matters at hand."

He motioned to a chair and I hesitantly sat down, my heart beating faster than it should. I was finally going to learn why it was that I was here, and I wasn't sure I was going to like the outcome.

Ah well.

"Firstly.. How long have I been here?" I pinpointed, if I was going to act civilised, I needed to know what concerned me.

He hesitated before answering, like he felt that I was on edge. The God of Destruction feeling wary? I highly doubt that.

"You were unconscious for.." He sighed, "Three week in Midg-Earth time."

My jaw hung open and I had to make myself close it, before I could stammer a word, he added, "Teleportation takes its toll on a mortal for the first time."

I glared at him hatefully. I was really beginning to dislike this guy. I sat back in my seat, angry, yet allowing him to continue. I would have liked to know the risk of teleporting. Or at least have any idea what would happen. I was truly clueless.

We sat in silence for a few moments, he then sighed. His next words were not at all what I expected.

He had a slightly insane look in his eyes as he turned to face me, "I need your help, and you need mine. Now tell me Amelia, am I wrong to think that you seek revenge?"

My back straightened as I listened to his words. "Stop."

He raised his eyebrows and froze where he stood.

"Before I do anything in the matters of helping you, or even siding with you, I want answers." I demanded, and he smiled.

"What would you like to know?" He considered, but knowing there was no other way but to oblige.

Or torture me. But I'm sure this way was a lot simpler. I hoped.

"Are you the so called mad villain that almost, barely, succeeded in taking over the world last year?" I asked, pushing the grin that tried to grow on my face as I saw him stiffen.

I liked angering people, I was very good at it. I made a mental note to ask him about my clothes. And sugar. And alcohol.

"Oh yes, I am most certainly insane." He retorted sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes, "My bad."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." He shrugged, "You need not know my motives, my struggles or successes."

"Listen, I'm not going to aid you and your world domination." I testified, almost humorous.

"That is not my wish."

"Then what is your wish?" I sighed.

So that was world domination off the list. Although it would be rather fun, I'm pretty sure myself and Loki would make great partners in crime.

Especially when the majority of humans were highly hate-able. I could agree with him that much.

"Revenge." He stated firmly, I couldn't argue with that, I had a will for revenge also.

I allowed the grin to dominate my face at last, "Then I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"We will indeed. Now, what would you say to the downfall of The Avengers?" He tested.

My answer was definite, as long as Tony Stark was within that matter, it was customary for me to participate. If he wasn't so egotistical, my father would still be here. If he cared about his family more than reputation, my father would've survived.

But instead, he stared on as they slaughtered him.

**Almost Seven Years Ago.**

"You have to help him, please." I pleaded for the fifth time, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Tears sprung in my uncles eyes as his hands tightened on the scotch bottle.

"Clint, Clint! Please!" I begged, "Just do something, do anything!"

I looked back down at the picture on the table, my dad was in chains and one eye had swelled shut, his lip was bust and there was so much blood.

Too much blood.

"Amelia, what they demand is very out of our reach," Barton sorrowed, "If we give them the weapons, who knows what would happen?"

"So you'll just let him die?!" I yelled, throwing the picture in rage. "Tony. Please. Do something. He's your brother! Does that mean nothing? This is your fault. Do. Something."

"There is nothing I can do." He replied, taking a swig from the scotch regretfully.

All he cared about was drinking, money and sex. He didn't care for his family. Unless he would try to do something instead of drinking beyond oblivion. I snatched the bottle and put it back onto the table with force, cracking the sides.

Barton moved towards me, "Amy, Amelia, listen, there's nothing we can do. Nothing."

"God dammit Clint!" I cried, kicking the chair. He moved to hug me but I pushed my arms out. "No!"

I tried to push him away but he caught both my arms, my 13 year old self having no strength against this young spy. He grabbed both my hands as I tried to hit him in blind rage, then he engulfed me with a tight hug, allowing me to shout.

That night, I had fallen asleep crying into Clint's chest, I had loved him like an older brother.

He loved and protected me like a younger sister.

The next day I had dreadfully awoken, I had stole some money and left, stepping over empty bottles of my uncles alcohol. He wasn't an alcoholic as such, he was just rather fond.

Weren't we all?

That was the day I left myself behind, I died when my father died, I disowned both my mother and uncle.

And Barton also.

**End of Flashback**

I had trained with Barton for almost ten years, I then trained myself. Who needs family?

"I will." I answered Loki, and then turning my back on him as I began to leave.

"Dinner?" He asked in the same way as he had yesterday, referring to me eating dinner with him, but I preferred to eat alone.

"Not today." I gave him a small smile and left.

Later on that night, or what I had assumed was night, I was tired of staring at my bland ceiling. I walked into the corridor outside my room and caught the attention of the grumpy guard from that morning. I had an idea to cure my boredom.

"Do you happen to know where the God is?" I asked happily, just to agitate his nerves.

"I do not." He replied firmly, refusing to look at me, but over me.

"But surely-"

"No." He snapped.

So I kicked him between the legs. I watched him squirm in pain and double over as I leaned back against the wall to mock his state.

"How about now?" I asked again, earning a very dirty look.

If looks could kill, my brain would paint the surrounding areas.

"No." He spoke through gritted teeth.

Maybe a punch to the nose would help. I rose my arm to gift the annoying guard another blow, when Loki annoyingly showed up.

"Now, now, Amelia," He chuckled, "Violence is most definitely not the answer."

I allowed my arm to drop and turned to face him, he was one to talk if I recalled correctly, "That's bullshit."

He wore a wicked grin as I walked towards him. He had a peculiar staff in one hand, it was wooden and decorated with many small symbols. It looked liked Gandalf's staff.

"I'm bored." I informed, "I've been here almost a month, though I spent three quarter's of that unconscious, and we've done nothing."

"Perfect plans take timing, and patience." He retorted.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, "I don't need none of that patience shit."

"Tomorrow." He spoke, turning to lead the way, "We start."

Start what, exactly? I followed him as he knowingly took lefts and rights. To have a mind like his, and have to be around people with a brain like mine would be beyond frustrating. No wonder he wanted to dominate the world. But dominating the world would mean having to be constantly in their presence.

When I closed my mouth, I had realised I was talking out loud. I groaned and face-palmed.

I heard him laugh as he led me back into the library-like room.

"You're not quite like your fellow friends, you realise?" He complimented. Ha, friends.

I had indeed realised that, mainly because I was still somewhat sane despite being on a spaceship. In space.

Not on Earth...

"Meaning I'm not so... Normal." I murmured as I sat in the same seat as before, this time I crossed my legs beneath me.

"Normality is for those who thrive to be ruled, as they follow their neighbours to fit in," Loki smirked as I moved to sit down.

"May I?" I asked as I reached my hand towards a book. He just looked at the book and made a suggestive face. I sighed, there'd be time for reading later.

The pain flared up in my right hand again and I gasped in shock. My breathing came out ragged and harsh as I peeled back my sleeve absent-mindedly, the pain was unbearable.

Imagine sandpaper being injected into your blood stream. Now add acid.

My skin felt like it was burning hotter than boiling point and I let out a small noise as I saw the veins had spread up my forearm. My arm felt as though it were splitting open and my vision blurred.

Loki had stood up, a confused look on his face. No sign of concern.

Surprise.

I tried to stand up also, to maybe leave in some way or another. My vision started to distort and my legs felt jelly-like. My vision went sideways and I realised that was mainly because I had fallen to the left. I tried to grab hold of my chair and pull myself up, but the chair fell with me as I collapsed. My vision was now almost fully black.

Fuck.

I saw Loki walk over to me, he knelt down beside me, a small curiosity in his eyes. He reached out for my hand but I pushed all my strength into my arm to move it away from him and he tutted.

I tried to push myself up but I fell back down immediately, I groaned in frustration. He sighed and grabbed my hand, and then dropped it back down onto my chest after studying it.

My vision gave out just as I was lifted.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: An Avenger Perspective.

**Meanwhile, On The Helliecarrier**

"The fuck do you mean he's escaped?" Tony's voice cut through the tense and forced silence, his voice was hoarse and in need of liquid substance.

"I mean he has escaped..." Thor continued confusedly, not understanding the need for Stark to question him once again.

He held Mjölnir in his grip tightly and stood firmly in front of the solid wood table at which the other Avengers sat. Barton and Romanoff sat at one side of the table, Banner and Rogers sat opposite them. Pepper, despite not being an Avenger seemed to attend every Avenger meeting for the sake of Tony not doing something completely outrageous, sat at the back of the table whilst Tony sat on the table, defying as many rules that he was humanely possible of breaking at once.

"Where, when and how?" Director Fury demanded as he stormed into the room, his coat gliding slightly behind him.

If Tony had been in a better mood, he would've snorted at Fury's gracefulness, but a crazy-ass god on the loose was no laughing matter.

Thor sighed deeply and sat down, his deep voice filling the eerily still silence, "My apologies, friends. I have found myself in a hurried mess, seeking help. I shall try explain this thoroughly. Loki escaped three weeks ago, I wait until now to tell you as we had suspected he had taken sanctuary in Asgard. And I know not of his whereabouts. The binds upon his wrists were to block the use of his magic, specifically for Loki, but someone disabled them..." He paused, "From the outside."

"You mean to tell me that Asgard has another lunatic on the loose and you've waited this long to humbly inform us?" Fury interrupted, his usual sarcasm dripping from every word, his eye stern and unblinking.

Thor's head snapped in Fury's direction due to the sensitive wording of 'lunatic'. Touchy. It seemed that Thor, despite everything, had hope for his lost brother. After all this time, he still blamed himself.

Banner stood up to stand between them, the last thing they needed was another argument, "We need to hear everything you know, Thor."

Despite the rumours, the gossip, the everything, Thor still had hope that a small piece of his brother remained. And maybe, just maybe, Thor was right. Loki would scoff at the idea, Thor knew this yet he wouldn't let it go. The reason for such stupidity, as others think, is because Thor knows Loki. He knew him. He knew Loki for far longer than anyone else had, he had spent the most time with him - had seen who is brother really was. The childhood Loki.

"As you wish." Thor continued, bowing his head slightly in apology, "The perpetrator was not of Asgard, nor of magic. My father can unearth that as of yet... All evidence points to Midgard, I am here to ask for your help."

Natasha remained silently seated, watching Thor closely. Barton, on the other hand, had tensed and was sitting on the edge of his seat. Of course Natasha knew that Barton had the most bones to pick with the evil god, he still had a few scores to settle. Tony would beg to differ - who the hell throws someone out of the window and lives to regret it?

Barton forced himself to take a long, deep breath and relaxed somewhat, before raising his voice, "You mean you allow him to escape, after we trusted you to manage a simple task... You had one job god dammit! And now you expect us to aid you on yet another suicide mission? If Odin's so mighty, why doesn't he find the son of a bitch himself?"

"Barton," Banner tried. "If we don't try, then who will?" Banner had a thing for being able to calm an atmosphere.

Maybe it was because people still had a fear to argue back, or maybe it was because Banner literally emitted calmness. Nobody wanted a drink of Banner's tea to calm them down, which was usually the forfeit of losing your shit. The tea tasted worse than warm beer.

"I'm in." Tony said quietly, still sat on the table.

Everyone froze.

He was in his thought-zone, the possibilities of them defending the world against Loki was low, but if Loki meant harm to that extent, he would have already made himself known... He loved the attention. He wouldn't remain silent and off-radar. If his plans included mass-murderous world domination, his place would be made boldly clear, due to the fact if Loki did something, it would be in style.

"What?" Pepper choked out before regaining her calm business composure.

Pepper was to him like Banner's tea was to Banner. His calm.

All eyes were now wide on Tony, demanding an explanation. Out of them all, the most likely to be arguing would be typical Stark, maybe even throwing a punch or two. But he just sat there, calm and collective, many thoughts behind his eyes.

Though everyone had questions, Thor was first to speak, "Thank you, friend. Your choices will not go unseen."

Tony didn't smile in return, he just stood up and walked to Thor, "What choice have I? Without our help, Loki will roam free. Did nobody see the destruction he caused when it was all of us against him? Or was that just me?"

Tony had his arms folded over his chest suggestively, as if to say 'wake the fuck up, guys.'

Banner nodded, as did Natasha. The seriousness had been proven in the situation, The Avengers were needed. Barton's face had softened a little and Steve muttered something about responsibility and nodded, Fury was watching silently, secretly feeling a small seed of happiness, The Avengers had brought themselves together once again, and Fury didn't even have to drag them here by their ears.

Action he was not unknown to take.

Pepper still looked as though she had seen a ghost, and Tony pulled her up. "Tony, I don-"

He pecked her mouth with his own to silence her, "Potts, trust me. I'm sending you to Malibu."

She shook her head, "I can't-"

"Fine, take Happy with you." He bargained and Fury sighed, this was going to piss The Council off.

Who gave a shit?

But of course, Director Fury gave no shits as to what they said since they ordered the nuke attack. Fury had recently been feeling the small sense of rebellion that a teenager did when under-age drinking, he lived to piss people off, especially those of the highest orders and ranks.

"Ton-"

"What more could you possibly take from me, woman?" Tony joked, turning her and pushing her lightly towards the door.

She had no choice but to agree, and the room knew he wanted her gone before the danger talk started and so they respected that. She worried too much, but with a guy like Tony, you'd be right to worry your ass off. He could be reckless, yet selfish, he would risk all of their lives for that of the better, and he also had a hidden kindness they all witnessed at the end of the New York attack.

They all knew that.

"Fine." She sighed, taking his hand, squeezing it assuringly, "Stay safe."

"Now that," He said as he ushered her out the door, "Is boring."

She left, hesitantly, and Tony turned to rejoin the ongoing conversation.

"What plan of action would you have in mind?" Rogers asked, his straight face barely shifting.

The guy needed to smile a little.

Tony was certain he should have developed a slightly more modernised sense of speech, but once a 1940's soldier, always an old guy.

"Well, my sources detect Loki landed in Northern Englan-" Tony began, but as always, an annoying yet reasoning Avenger found a way to interrupt.

The whole of S.H.I.E.L.D knew Tony could find something quicker than the most advanced technology on Earth, because somehow, his technology was way more advanced.

"You mean to tell me that you knew Loki had landed on Earth?" Fury boomed, all eyes back on Tony.

He shrugged his shoulders, being one of little who could remain comfortable under Fury's deathly glare.

"As soon as I was told Thor was the cause of the meeting, I asked JARVIS to do a quick scan. Anything Thor, or Loki, anything world-threatening, anything.. Not Earthly." Tony informed, taking his place back on the table.

He took a small moment to appreciate how he forced his lazy ass to shave this morning, of course he could probably pay someone to do it for him, or even make something capably enough of doing it, but he couldn't take advantage of what he had, unless he'd become a fat, lazy, couch potato.

Pepper's words.

"A scan... Of the entire Earth?" Natasha mused.

She always found ways to be in awe of Stark, not idolisation, but appreciating. She appreciated that the worlds smartest man was a true ally, and a considered friend.

Advantages.

"You all underestimate me greatly." Tony muttered. "As I was saying, no. Don't assume things. Your assumptions are usually wrong. When I'm involved, anyhow. I'm far better than any of your assumptions could reach."

"Can we continue with matters at hand?" Thor asked, turning to face them all, "Where is it you say my brother landed?"

"Wait, I thought he wasn't your brother?" Steve began until the whole room shot him a 'shut the fuck up' look.

"Another time." He muttered.

The Avengers were a fully advanced, genius based, world saving bunch of curious heroes. More curious than anything, Fury suspected. It was like a group of teenage girls had assembled in the bathroom to discuss the annihilation of the school's bully.

"There was a slight disturbance in the water particles within Northern England's storm clouds three weeks ago," Tony began proudly, then realising that none of them, accept maybe Banner, would understand what he said in just a mere sentence, "But a closer look into it would show the particles had been manipulated, as well as the weather turning seemingly frosty for no seen reason."

Thor stiffened, "That's Loki."

And that's all Thor said for the rest of the night, as Stark, Barton and Natasha prepared for England. Orders per Fury, they were to happily fly to England the next day to begin a hands-on detective business. Minus the happy part, obviously. The night had buzzed by, they all had the same, familiar, adrenaline rush that they always received when shit turned real. And they liked it. They were excited to be doing something other than stopping basic, boring, low intelligence criminals.

Tony sighed as he entered the top floor of his tower, ordering JARVIS to prepare a strong coffee, and his suit for the morning. He was not a morning person, unless going to sleep when morning landed counted, then he was most definitely the most morningliest person to ever morning.

Too much?

"Sir, incoming call from your sister-in-law." JARVIS announced, Tony walked into his bedroom, stripping his clothes as he did so.

He murmured 'accept' as he pulled his shirt over his head, and climbed into bed. The sheets were comfortingly cool against his warm skin and delicately soft as he pulled them up to his chest. He hadn't slept the night before, he had been too focused on prolonging the life of his towers self-sustaining energy.

Without fail, of course.

But things took time, and he'd probably have to wait until all of this inconvenient world saving business had blown over. Again.

"Hello, is this Mr Stark?" A young woman's voice came through the speakers and Tony frowned, JARVIS had stated it was Joanna calling...

That woman was most definitely not Joanna.

"Uh, this is Stark. To whom am I speaking?" Tony pondered.

It wasn't often JARVIS got things wrong, unless this woman was calling from Joanna's phone. Maybe she was another 'friend' of Joanna's. Meaning someone who used her, just because she was a relative of the wonderful Tony Stark.

He rolled his eyes.

Most likely. Amelia's mum was an alcoholic drug addict. There were many things wrong with her life and Tony blamed himself from them all. He was young and stupid. He could have saved him.

He should have saved him.

These were the thoughts that kept Tony awake at night, haunting his dreams as well as the foreign caves. No matter what he did, he would never forgive himself, he could never forgive himself.

Of course he tried to help her in any way, paying for rehab, paying people to help her, but money was nothing to fill the loss that both her and Amy had felt. Oh young Amelia. No matter how much punishment Tony received in the deeds he did for the good of others, nothing would ever fill the gaping hole of guilt that he dug in himself.

It was his fault.

"This is Detective Chadwick of West Yorkshire Police Station. This is not my usual doing, but on behalf of West Yorkshire Police, I am to inform you that you are now sole legal guardian of Amelia Stark. Though she is of age, she, by law, needs an authorised family member." The woman on the line, "Mrs J Stark was pronounced dead at 4.45 this morning, sorry for your loss."

Tony choked on the basic air within his lungs.

What?

His chest hurt. What the hell had happened? It wasn't often he was left speechless, but this had rendered his voice useless. What in the-

"Mr Stark, are you there?" Her voice sounded through the speakers, concerned.

It was different hearing a strangers voice sound concerned, usually they wanted something from him.

"Yeah, uh, where is Amelia?" He conjured, not many sentences were formidable in his mind at this moment in time.

He had no humour left in him, no emotion, no anything. He had no 'mourn' left in him, and his tears had been used up. He let his head fall between his hands and groaned incoherently.

Why did he send Pepper away? He needed her right about now.

He pushed himself to focus on Amelia, the only thing he had left family wise, now, and the gaping hole that his brother had left just torn surprisingly bigger. Almost consuming.

"She was last seen 3 weeks ago." Detective Chadwick informed apologetically, "She is considered missing. Any questions I may help you with?"

Tony stood straight up, forgetting to breathe for a second. He gasped and pulled back on his trousers and shirt against the momentarily cold, thoughts projecting themselves in front of him. He had to find her. He had to do something. Anything. It was Amy for gods sake!

"I'll be there right away." He answered before hanging up, despite the woman being in a state of "what no why this is not necessary".

"JARVIS, suit me up." He spoke as he walked back through into his living room, pulling down his shirt.

"Sir, I advise you to sleep before a long journey."

Oh JARVIS, always so considerate.

"Sleep is for the weak." He yawned, "My suit?"

"Mark VII is ready for deployment."

Tony held up the wrist he wore his newly improved detector bracelet and his suit was soon around him. He always felt protection and pride in the way the armour suited around his body, and how the armour was to his command. It was his insurance.

It was his.

"Get Fury on the phone."

After a lot of argument, and petty name calling, Fury forced Tony to take the jet to England, with a complaining Natasha and a half-asleep Barton. They weren't due to leave until morning, but Fury barked a few orders and Natasha and Barton were on the jet. Natasha and Barton were too loyal to Fury, in Stark's opinion. Never to be trusted with information that Fury could use against him. Natasha more than Barton though.

Himself and Barton had a lot of history, they had fought many battles together - they had won many battles together and Clint was probably Stark's only plausible friend. Or that's how Tony saw it. Barton and Tony were long term friends, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him about Joanna and Amelia. And that it could be, maybe, possibly, be related to Loki.

And it was all his fault. As per usual.

Tony lined up the fifth shot in his small row off shots, and filled them each, messily, with whiskey, the strongest alcohol on the plane. Barton entered quite noisily and joined Tony as he took each shot, grimacing at the burning sensation. Barton grabbed the bottle to study it.

"Whiskey." Barton approved, taking a swig from the bottle. "Long day?"

"You could say that." Tony muttered, taking the last shot and putting his head in his hands.

Joanna was dead. Amelia was missing. Loki was free. The world was a mess once again.

Tony closed his eyes as he remembered the last time Amelia had spoken to him, before retorting to just looking at him with a blank expression. That was worse than any punishment. He didn't blame her, he had tried to convince her that he had changed - that he wasn't the man that let her father die. If he could turn back time... If he could do anything, he would. But she had told him of her thorough hate, informed him of how much she detested him. And how sorry he was.

She was spectacular, to Stark, was Amy. She had the intelligence of him, and her deduction skills were far more advanced than his own. She was also highly trained in combat, as he witnessed through stolen CCTV feed when two S.H.I.E.L.D agents tried to bring her in to work for them.

He groaned into his hands.

His last good memory of Amelia was the day before her dads kidnapping. He took her for a simple walk, and her mind amazed him. She was definitely her fathers child, and his niece. She could probably drink Stark under the table, he snorted at the thought.

But, now she was gone.

Her hatred high, her positive gone, she had the mind of cynic and could quite possibly do anything if she wanted.

Even back before his cave incident, Amelia had shone bright in his life. And now she shone bright, in a cold direction, there was no warmth to her, like the sun in winter, bright yet cold.

And it was his fault.

He wondered to himself if she had finished college, and if she went to the university Banner taught at, as her dreams had once thrived. Or if she was some evil mastermind, she'd be great at that.

Clint's hand on his shoulder brought him back into reality, he lifted his head from his hands to look at Barton, concern filling his friends eyes. Clint searched Stark's face for any sign of what was wrong, any indication that something was wrong.

Despite being a highly trained spy, Stark was his closest friend. He'd been by his side through everything. And he stood by Stark through every small aspect. Through his bad, younger, reckless years. Even now in his genius yet annoying ways. Stark was family.

"Hey," Barton thought aloud as he tried to lighten the mood, "We could go visit Amy."

Stark groaned even louder and allowed his head to hit the bar top, pushing all the wind from his lungs. Barton would suggest that they visit her, he loved Amelia as much as himself. He had trained her since she could walk, even though he was also very young. Barton and Amelia were family, through Stark, and Stark felt the hole in his chest gape wider.

"Wait," Barton denounced, Stark refusing to lift his head, "Amelia...?"

Stark forced himself to lift his head to meet Barton's eyes, Barton would understand... Right?

Why he hadn't told him right away?

He steadied his mind, the faint buzz of alcohol calming him considerably. It had been a long time since Stark and Barton had been able to be there for one another, and Stark was in need of his friend. His family. Stark began to explain everything, from the guilt, the widening metaphorical hole in his chest, to Joanna and Amelia. To Loki.

Everything.

They were going to England, they would find Amy, they would beat Loki. Everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

It had to be.. Right?


	6. Chapter 6

I groaned and forced myself to turn on to my side, my back stiff from, most likely, laying in the same position for too long - like those long, infuriating bus journeys with insufferable idiots that you cannot stand. My mind was a static mess, feeling as though it were dealing with mass amounts of alcohol - I so deeply wished; but this was all the symptoms of a hangover, minus the glorious alcohol.

I was always one for peculiar dreams, most of which did not make sense.

My whole body felt as though it were created from cloudy fog, so I retorted to yawning lazily as I forced my sleep ridden eyes open.

To see a faint figure sat on the bed next to me.

The only alarm bell causing chaos within my brain was that my head was resting upon their lap. My mind acknowledged vivid black hair and my heart almost exploded, memories slowly piecing together like a jigsaw in my mind, even on the most delightful of days, I thoroughly hated jigsaws, they were useless and time consuming. Muling idiots with too much time on their hands invested in jigsaws.

I remembered.

I forced my body upwards, but seemingly too fast as my vision decided to fail me also making my head pulse with blinding pain. I pulled my legs beneath me and let my head fall within my weak and shaking hands.

The only actions I managed to take were to rub my face tiredly and try focus. When I had finally recalled my sense of normality and straightened my back to its normal yet stubborn curvature, I turned to look at the person sat upon my bed. I tried not to groan aloud, why did everything have to be so complicated?

I could feel that my skin was wet with sweat, yet I shivered at the cold. The room itself was warmer than I was; I felt as though I had the flu, minus the symptoms. I was in a cold-sweating phase of recovery.

Loki was sat on the side of my bed, his eyes closed, and his back against the wall near my head. I stared at him blankly, he didn't even twitch.

Fucking God of Random-Shit-That-May-Or-May-Not-Cause-Death.

I would be considerably grateful if, for just once in our delightful encounter, Loki informed me of the health risks I may ever face. It would be lovely if I had knowledge of his crazy-ass god likings.

But I didn't really want to wake him from whatever sort of god sleep he was immersed in, I treasured my head being attached to my neck... And my neck being attached to the rest of my still-alive body. Note the 'still-alive' part.

I slowly crawled from the bed silently freaking out; but not in fear, mostly confusion and anger. Those two moods were most common when this psychopath was involved.

My limbs were weak and I failed to grasp any grip on the end of the bed, falling gracefully from the bed and grunting as my back hit the floor, muttering familiar curses to myself. I sat up and wiped my face, in frustration. I couldn't stand up.

My legs wouldn't support my weight.

Now would be a wonderful time to lose use of my legs. Really. I frowned at my legs as if it were their fault for being so useless, refraining from shouting 'do your jobs you pieces of shit'.

So maybe my English teacher was right - I was easily angered.

He was still a prick.

I pulled myself backwards along the floor in the most dignity-keeping way and prodded at my legs, letting out a tight sigh of relief when I felt the nip of pain.

The tension within my chest loosened a little, but it was still difficult maintaining controlled breathing against the continuous need for air and beat of my heart.

I took a moment to look at my right hand and realised the veins were almost back to their normal colour, a bluey grey. I felt extremely fatigued, and my arm tingled. It wasn't a pins and needles sensation, it was more like my skin was radiating a soft heat inwards, soothing ruptured nerves and...

Healing.

"Loki, you son of a-"

"What?" I heard Loki speak, interuptng my small ranting session and causing a small heart palpitation within me.

His voice was raw and hoarse, like he hadn't eaten nor drank in days. In fact, he didn't look like he had eaten or drank in days. He was overly pale, more so than before, and his hair fell flat against his face limply. He was breathing in small breaths, like too much air could kill him. His eyes were dull, and barely open.

He looked like death.

He had red skin beneath his eyes and dry, cracked lips to match. He looked like he was legitimately dying in front of me, but of course, he was a god, and probably an immortal motherfucker.

And suddenly, I didn't feel so angry that I had awoke beside him. I didn't feel so much hate or negativity towards him. I felt confused. Again. But most of all, I felt.. No. I.. Fuck no.. I felt.. guilt; had Loki.. Healed me? I felt sympathy.

He looked vulnerable. Loki never looked vulnerable. Loki never even looked ill; the perks of being a murderous god. Yet here we were; he wasn't doing so good health-wise, and I? I was struggling to grasp the effects of this new emotion. I don't feel guilt. I was Amelia Stark. I defeated the purpose of guilt. I had never felt guilty.

My head was a destruction zone, yet these new emotions were being constructed. That beats the purpose of destructive.

My, oh my, getting weak, are we? I absentmindedly stared at him, and pushed all other thoughts over a mental cliff.

Goodbye priorities.

Right now, Loki needed help... And I didn't see anyone else helping.

"Uh," I almost stuttered, thankfully I managed to remain from making a complete fool of myself, "You look.. Purdy."

"Why thank you," He chuckled though the vibrations caused a tight pain with each breath, "You don't look awfully bad yourself."

"Liar." I smiled, pulling myself up onto the armchair.

My legs had began to regain their strength, but Loki barely stared at my struggle, he just coughed slightly and groaned tiredly. We sat in silence as I looked down at my creased clothes. How long had I been in here for? It felt as though the previous events had been mere hours before, but the facts screamed otherwise.

"A few days, maybe more." Loki replied, as if reading my min-

"Yes. I can 'read your mind'." He said in a mocking manor.

Okay, so what the fuck? Had he been able to do th-

"Humans and their swears," Loki tutted, before turning his head to stare, "No, this is new." He mused.

Because this isn't weird at all. Stop it. "Stop it."

"Don't projectively think something, and then say it, it's most annoying." He informed, the hoarseness of his voice was becoming softer, yet he appeared to be getting sicker.

I could do nothing but watch, the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. I didn't need to do anything. I didn't need to help the poor fucker. I was selfish and I didn't care for the well-being of others. His health does not concern me, it saves me the effort of doing it myself. I did not care.

Liar.

"I'm not sick." He replied, "Try and keep your thoughts down, it will be helpful. For both you and I."

This isn't awkward. Not at all. "But now that you tell me to keep my thoughts down, I've started to think of bizarre things."

Like people naked, I added internally, to push the point across.

He sighed, pushing himself up tiredly, "Please stop."

Get out my head, then.

"Stop thinking so loud."

Get out of my head or I-

"You'll what? You're in no position of power." He grinned wickedly, the humour in his voice was reassuring, but it didn't make the point stand any less clearer.

He most definitely need not try to intimidate me, the whole god thing pushed me over the edge.

I'll think of weird and horrible things.

"I could conjure worse."

A moment passed.

"No. No. Amelia!" He almost begged despite smiling, "Stop. Don't think about that. No. That's not - how, in the name of -Okay-okay! I'll try."

"Why were you in my head in the first place?" I scowled, feeling highly violated.

My head was the most decieving part of me, I didn't need him unlocking secret locks.

"It's rude. It's untrustworthy. It's weird. It's embarrassing."

"You need not care for the well-being of me." He murmured as he ran a hand through his hair, "Also, I do not sleep."

Ah - The thoughts I had when he was aslee- 'meditating.' Isn't that more of a 'in touch with the earth' sort of thing?

He sighed, "No."

I added a mental note to ask him when he couldn't read my reactions. He raised a suspecting eyebrow at me and I shrugged my shoulders, I couldn't lie to him whilst he was in my head.

I shuddered, feeling over-exposed.

"You're recovering, I hope, the weakness in limbs is normal." He informed, and I made a satisfied face and sat back, doing my best to push the fact that he had missed out the part where I called him a psychopath... And called myself weak.. Oh. Oh. That's..

Embarrassing. I felt my face burn red and I turned my head away, thankful he had either not heard it, or was choosing not to acknowledge it. I don't 'feeling-talk' well. I refused to do that at all. I felt a shiver creep up my spine at the minor thought that he had heard it.

I resisted from repeatedly punching myself in the face.

"Get out of my head." I grumbled after the colour had gone from my face, returning to the paleness it was before.

"I've seen worse," He smirked, but the sick paleness of his skin made everything look ill-fitting and weak, "You should be thanking me."

"For what?"

"Saving your life. I think a branch of my magic remains in your mind." He said as he doubled over, coughing once again.

Of fuck.

He began to splutter and I forced myself onto my feet, despite my legs and their refusal to co-operate with the instructions my mind commanded. I navigated towards him, almost falling over myself in surprise when I saw the blood dripping from his nose. That's not supposed to happen.

I refrained from swearing, and instead, inquired, "Loki? Okay, I'm going to need some sort of expla-"

"I'm fine!" He snapped, stumbling further back onto the bed.

I felt a weight lift from my mind temporarily, but was too focused on Loki's sudden out-lash and cowering away from me.

This was not Loki.

His eyes had the familiar insanity look within them, like he just... Broke. Broke from sanity for a few moments. Mostly my fault. Loki was a god, a god of no things good. He didn't feel emotion or sympathy, he had been acting otherwise these passed few days and he knew it. I also knew he needed something from me, that was probably my insurance for living, but Loki was not nice. He was anything but nice. Yet I found myself in a situation where Loki damaged himself to help me...

He probably couldn't risk his necessity becoming damaged.

But he made himself vulnerable.

He must have a bigger use for me than I thought... I was just another chess-piece in Loki's game of madness.

That hurt a little. I was becoming weak up here and I needed out. I needed to be in the presence of more than just Loki, or be completely alone. If Loki's reasoning for helping me was that I was needed, why would he get so pissy about it? Ah.

Because he felt vulnerable.

He had exhausted himself, and left himself defenceless. I imagine a man like him has a queue of enemies ready to attack, and now there's no way for him to protect himself.

But I was the only one here, and I'm certain he isn't stupid enough to put himself in line of sight of an enemy. So there was only I. Myself and Loki.

And he got pissy about being vulnerable?

"Because the blood pouring from your nose says you're fine," I argued.

I understood his need to be a stubborn mother-fucker. He was vulnerable, I understood that, he was not in the right mind, weak and bleeding. I'd be freaking out also.

But he was more than independent. He didn't want my help, but he needed the help, he wasn't in the correct position to argue this time.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I sighed, "Just because you do not want my help, does not mean you do not need it. Now tell me what the fuck is going on?"

I rested myself on the end of the bed, a considerable amount of distance between myself and Loki, more probably for my sake than his. But if he didn't stop being pissy, his death wish wouldn't be his only problem. He needed to trust me, and stop being so 'Loki'. I almost laughed at the word trust, as both him and I both know we're both incapable of trust.

All he had left himself vulnerable to is emotion. I was now within arms distance from him, trying to keep a calm and collective atmosphere.

He wiped the blood from his nose.

"What do you know of emotion?" He spat.

I felt my heart stop and grow cold in my chest as his chaotic grin spread from ear to ear. I felt my chest plummet back into reality and the humanity of my being was slammed out, a steel door in it's place.

I was me, once again. No more stupidity, no more pity.

I tried. I honestly tried to refrain from punching him in the face, but he was within reason, and I was within distance.

My fist collided with his nose and I stepped back; he was too weak to fight, and so I used this to my advantage. As always. His head snapped to the side with the force and he was hunched over on the bed, more blood dripping from his nose, and this time, it wasn't so ill looking. He brought his head upwards and I could easily see that his nose had been displaced..

Broken.

I smiled.

It's not every day you break a gods nose.

He brought his head up spitefully, his hair covering the well-defined cheek bones and perfectly shaped lips. Everything looked so much more sharp in the dim light.

I heard his nose crack as it slipped back into place.

"You will regret that, I ensure it." He hissed as I stormed my way out of the room, I stopped before I was completely out of sight and slowly turned to face him.

"I look forward to it." I bowed and left.

Loki was an insane roller-coaster of insanity, and I was on it, no safety belts included with no way of and no sign of the ride ending.

I managed to refrain from growling at one of the guards as I searched for a new place to initiate my stubborn tendency, he stepped back slightly as I stormed passed him.

There were too many questions left unanswered and it frustrated me beyond comprehension, but Loki knew that. He cherished it. It was the one thing that gave him the advantage, he had all the answers.

Had he healed me? Why had he healed me? Did he need me to complete an evil deed? Why me? Why did my veins decide to go crazy? Why am I currently feeling inexplicably ill? Why did he look inexplicably ill?

Why did he show me Odin's Hunt? What parts had I missed? Could he heal things? Did the painting do this to me? Why can he read my mind? Can he still read my mind? Why do I feel that I'm stuck on board an enemy ship in Star Trek?

Why the fuck was I even on a spaceship? Where are the ships's actual crew members? Do I have to be hasty about bumping into another insufferable alien such as Spock?

What. Purpose. Did. I. Serve?

I mentally shook myself, panic was not needed.

I finally decided to locate the holy place of the kitchen and satisfy my complaining stomach and quench my dying tongue. I entered the kitchen feeling zombie-like and groaned when I saw Loki within the kitchen.

It wasn't fair. How did he get here before me? Why can't I teleport? Why am I some puny human? Why can't I have cliche magic? Why do I feel like an oblivious child in a war zone?

Why, why, why?

His chuckle brought me back into reality and I glanced up, becoming fully aware that his eyes lacked their previous insanity look that had occupied his mind for a brief moment in time. I definitely preferred his non-crazy look.

I remained silent as I pulled things from the strange in-wall cupboards that looked edible and brought them to the table. I frowned at the maybe-food as Loki joined me at the opposite side of the table and put a purple liquid in front of me.

I bit into something yellow that looked like a pear but most definitely did not taste like one. My mouth dropped in disgust and I made an obscure facial expression as the sourness exploded upon my tongue.

I silently scowled as Loki laughed, but my scowl made his lips widen all the more.

Thankfully, these so-called-aliens drunk water, it must have been a necessity in more worlds than just mine. I clung onto the container that held my water and swallowed the remains of the vile tasting not-pear thing.

How professional.

"Drink the Eir Liquid." He spoke quietly as I sipped the water, refusing to acknowledge him.

He motioned to the purple liquid, "Drink it."

I took a hasty bite of a green cube that looked like wax, sighing relief when it tasted somewhat nice.

Fruity.

"Amelia." Loki pushed.

I ignored him and ate the green thing, making a mental note to eat more of them. I completely intended to remain in wonderful silence.

He shrugged his shoulders as he sat back and made a suggestive face as he sat back, "Drink it by will, or I shall have to use force."

His skin was still the same sickly paleness, but his eyes had their humorous gleam back. I refused to interact with someone when they could turn and bite my head off at any moment in time.

"I completely intend to allow you to keep your head upon your neck.." He informed with a smile on hs face, "And your neck upon your still-alive body."

Son of a bitch.

"No, I am not currently discovering your wonderful mind, but I do recall you thinking you liked your head upon your neck." He chuckled, "And all that bla."

And all that bla? They were not the usual murderous Loki sounding words. He still sat opposite, but I realised he also had a container with purple looking liquid also in front of him. He picked his up, my eyes becoming captivated with his slender fingers as they enclosed around the container. He brought the container upwards and motioned to mine.

I sighed, giving in and picking up my container.

We clinked containers and I watched steadily as he took a drink from his, and I did also. I braced for impact of some type of poison. As soon as the liquid touched my tongue, I made a very weird and unintentional sound, but I cared not as the weird pain that radiated throughout my body disappeared and the liquid just tasted too good. It was warm yet refreshing and I could feel it's affects spread from my toes to my finger tips, I couldn't help but laugh.

I legitimately could not stop laughing. It was rather embarrassing yet I still laughed. A few moments passed as I managed to maintain control of my weird laughter, and I made myself look at Loki. And started laughing again. He was staring at me with his eyebrows raised and a very confused expression on his face. It was as if he was frozen to the spot, intrigued with what I found funny. I didn't find anything funny. Nothing was funny.

But. I. Was. Still. Laughing.

I forced my head onto the table, face down, and scrunched my eyes shut. There was a fuzzy feeling in my stomach and my chest was tickling...

"What's so funny?" Loki asked as I managed suppress my laughter.

When someone is laughing and is incapable of stopping, you do not ask them what is funny. Because it just makes them laugh again. I was laughing again.

"I-" I managed to get out between bursts of laughter, "I don't.. Know. I don't know what's so.."

My words were coming out in pieces and he couldn't push away the large smile that slowly crept onto his face. It wasn't grin, or his trademark smile, it was full of humour and he couldn't push it from his face.

"Funny.. Loki. Loki. Help I can't st-"

He burst out laughing. Loki. Was laughing. At me.. Laughing at nothing.

I refrained from snorting between gasps of air and managed to push the laugh away, gulping down air as the laughter had robbed me of that in my lungs. I couldn't rid myself of the massive smile on my face, I coughed awkwardly and stared down at the quater cup of purple liquid - Eir Liquid - to avert my gaze.

"What in Valhalla is so funny?" Loki asked after a few moments of calm.

"I think your Eir stuff effected my brain."

"Eir Liquid," He corrected, "It's a healing potion."

"Oh!" I said loudly, my mind was in a loud and blasphemous state from the laughing.

The Eir Liquid healed because Eir was the goddess of healing. Or something.

"Is she an actual goddess?"

"No," He declined, but nodded his head slightly in approval of my knowledge, "Your knowledge never ceases to amaze..."

I widened my eyes in shock as he furrowed his brows at the words as they left his mouth, I forced my eyes back down to the liquid to refain from turning red, "So Eir Liquid is referring to healing... Right?"

"Yes." He brought himself back to reality, "She was an Aeisr, once."

I did not push for answers as I did not care, as harsh as it may sound, that was none of my concern. I did find it slightly ironic, she was supposedly a goddess of healing yet she had died. I guess we all have our time.

Immortality wasn't as truthful as it sounded.

"Loki..." I began, wanting the atmosphere to remain calm, "I need... I need answers."

My body stiffened slightly as the words left my mouth, the most likely outcome was that I would not like the answers.

"Very well." He agreed, finishing the rest of his liquid.

He was definitely looking far better, his skin not being as pale, his lips no longer cracked, the red-rimmed eyes were gone and his hair was slicked back once again.

"What happened," I decided first, "In the room? Why did the painting decide to legitimately attack my arm?"

"You touched the painting?" He asked in monotone, I awaited a small name calling sentence but it didn't come, "After I specifically said 'Do not touch the painting'?"

"Hey!" I shot back, "I'm asking the questions here. But yes, I touched the do-not-touch painting. I didn't _intentionally_ touch the it..."

I looked up at his raised eyebrow and sighed, "I didn't realise I had touched it.. Until I touched it. It sounds highly stupid but I have no reason to lie, I didn't want to touch the painting. I didn't wake up thinking 'hey, you know what? I'm gonna go touch the painting the god told me not to touch'."

He looked unconvinced, but I still pushed on, "I was drawn to it."

With those last words, Loki's back straightened and he bit his lip in thought, "Interesting."

"What's- Nevermind. Answer my question." I replied, choosing to ignore his words, there was enough questions that needed questions already.

"The painting is untouchable because I stole it," He shrugged, "The walls are covered in hidden runes, the painting is only shown to whoever it wants to be seen by. Yes, it is magic. I was highly surprised that you could see the painting, as I myself struggled to locate it at first.. Until I marked it in my mind. But that's not important. When you returned to the painting the following day, I was highly intrigued, the painting has a mind of it's own, it has the power to hide from thieves if it does not want to be found. None of my men can see it, nor could I."

"And Thor?" I asked, resisting the urge to call Thor his brother, he seemed overly sensitive about that subject.

Loki's lips pursed into a thin line, and I felt the need to apologised but I refrained.

"Nor Thor. I was present when it was painted, in Midgard."

"It was painted on Midg - Earth?" I refused to call my planet Midgard, it was truly ridiculous.

"Yes. Let's skip the history lesson; it has many names of which I shall not recite. Peter Nicolai Arbo, 1872." He told me rather quickly, though I was slightly disappointed he wouldn't tell me the boring history of it, I did realise there were far more important things.

"It's such an intriguing painting," I said mostly to myself before looking at him, "Why is it so important?"

He shrugged once again, "It's more of an emotional expense, though I know not of its Midgardian worth. I like it, personally, because you mortals have it all wrong. Most of you-"

"Okay, don't refer to me as mortal, and don't think of me as you would the rest of the human race, I'd rather you not remind me of my relation to them, " I was serious at first, but I let a cocky grin to appear on my face, "I am much more than that, I thought we had something here."

He smiled at my innuendo, "Of course, love." He mocked, but continued, "Most of yo - Most humans - Portray this picture in a more horror sense. They see The Hunt as slaves of the devil, dogs of the devil, in pursuit of human souls to kidnap and take to the land of the dead." He smiled and rolled his eyes as if the whole human race was stupid, "There is no land of the dead. But, the painting does show The Hunt. An annual hunt controlled by Odin himself, by annual I mean every thousand Midgard years. It is indeed a spectral group of huntsmen with hunting accoutrements, and they are indeed hunting souls. Once in a while you get a rogue soul, bla bla, and Odin sees it as his duty to find that poor, lost soul and make sure it goes where need be. Frigga also participates."

"Oh." Was all I could contribute, "You really need to calm down with the word 'bla'."

"Some things interest me, something's do not. I care not for the deeds of Odin. But yes, you were poisoned. No, the painting does not hate you, I put the spell on it so any thief who dared enter my vessel would soon regret it, if they could even locate the painting." He quickly divulged, missing unimportant details.

He became bored too fast for a god.

I really needed to stop calling him a god.

"So because of you I almost died?" I deduced finally.

"And how truly tragic that would have been."

"I dislike you." I narrowed my eyes before finishing the rest of the Eir Liquid, it still tingled. "So.."

"So I healed you." He muttered as he bit into the weird looking fruit that had horrified my tastebuds previously.

"Why not just give me the Eir Liquid? Doesn't it heal?"

He sighed, putting the fruit back onto the table, "Do you honestly think that if it would have healed you, I would have gone to the trouble? I exhausted my magic, I am currently rendered useless, I cannot heal even myself due to the exhaustion."

I didn't want to ask him why he had even bothered to heal me if it put him at risk, I didn't want to be called 'just another chesspiece'. I was too often just another pawn in a game I had no control in. Despite my so called intelligence and basic combat skills, I was not a person of power. I was useless against the higher people of Earth. I remained in the shadows, I stuck to the darkness.

I remembered back to when I was addressed by Director Fury, he wanted me to become an agent. Me. I almost laughed aloud at the thought. I found it difficult sticking to rules, and being part of something as big as S.H.I.E.L.D would sure as hell hand me my ass on a plate.

I became tired of being used, I became tired of the causality of us humans. I stuck to the streets, I always lived with my mother as she cared not for my existence.

I blinked a couple of times, recalling Loki's words.

"Thanks." I muttered, barely audible.

In return, he cocked his head to the side in thought. It would be so much easier if I could read his mi-

"Are you still in my head?" I interrogated, "Because I thoroughly recall you stating that you had left my mind."

He sighed, "Before you act," He raised that damn eyebrow, "Unnecessarily, allow me to explain. I did not have enough mental energy to fully pull my magic out, but I was locked out temporarily. And now, I can, and I am unsure if I can pull myself out. It has only been the last ten minutes."

Ah shit. He didn't need to know my stupid thoughts. Especially the ones that made me sound human.

"Out." I pointed to my head and he bowed his head in return. I felt the familiar weight being lifted from my mind, and sighed.

"My apologies."

I glanced up with the most confused expression on my face. He apologised. Hm.

"I really need to stop the assumptions about you." I thought out-loud, and then frowned as the words left my mouth and he turned his head to the side to look at me.

"Moving on." It  
was my turn to push the conversation forward, "Why me?"

He sighed, standing up. "You'll find out tomorrow when I inform you with what you need to do. Tomorrow, we go back to earth."

He left the kitchen and I sank lower in my chair, that could have gone worse... I think. I was still alive, that was always a positive light in a negative situation.

The painting was pretty damn interesting, I had to admit. But both myself and Loki were confused as to why I could even see the painting. Though I knew I was far more confused.

I was still finding it difficult believing that I was no longer on earth, and I was with Loki, and magic was real and.. Shit. I needed alcohol. I didn't ask Loki if they had alcohol.. Damn.

I stood up and went to go find him, hating that I had a bad memory when it came to these corridors.

I still needed to ask him a shit ton of questions.

Everything looked identical in these corridors - all the doors were the same, all the repetitive white was the same. I would have asked a guard directions to the library of a sort, but there were many problems concerning that decision. They hated me, I hated them, I was stubborn and I liked them to think I knew things. Like where the hell I was going.

I wandered restlessly for what must have been an hour, until I finally found the familiar door. There was no longer guards outside it and I smiled a little.

I did that.

I hesitated before going through the second door, I vaguely remembered Loki saying something about a barrier on the room, but I was new to the concept of magic. I still didn't truly believe in it. Even though I had seen it.


	7. Chapter 7

"I knew you couldn't stay away for long," Loki boasted as I wandered into the peculiar library cautiously.

He wasn't even looking at me, he was sat, cross-legged, in an arm chair. Reading a book, without a care whatsoever.

"I have two questions that I am currently finding the most difficult to cope holding in." I stated, watching carefully as he closed his book and put it down in a painfully slow manor.

I bet he didn't even have to memorize the page number. Yes, I was in spite, slowly starting to envy his magic.

"I keep referring to you as a god, in my head," I frowned as I said the words. That sounded insanely creepy. "No, what I meant was-"

"Aw, you think about me?" He mocked, a sly grin upon that pretty face of his.

"No." I almost snapped, "Well, yes. Sort of. I mean, no. I don't know what I mean."

He started to laugh, my first thought was 'its not every day you make a god laugh' but I was still contemplating the concept of 'god'. His laugh was airy, and made me smile. I mentally shook myself and aimed my focus back at him.

"I hate you." I began as I moved towards one of the armchair. No matter what question I seemed to ask, the answer unleashed three more.

I understand that I was acting immature but I was embarrassed. Yet again. Because of Loki. Yet again.

"Is that why you think about me?"

"Fuck you." I concluded after a moment of silence.

He smiled at my embarrassment and sat back in his chair, "I am most often referred to as a god, yes. Would you believe that some people actually prayed to me? I am the god of chaos. Destruction. Yet, people still prayed." He laughed a little, "Humans are most idiotic. I am practically a god. Power wise. And in Norse culture. The first thing I did when I visited Midgard was research. I researched myself. I am most mythical."

"Yeah... Okay." I had one thing answered; he was like a superhuman wizard with an exceptionally long life.

It was an inhumane thought that humans prayed to a god of such things. I have never prayed, but I'm certain that those faithful to religion prayed to the god of good things. That was not Loki, he was the god of everything but good.

Shit, I was supposed to stop making assumptions.

"Do you have alcohol up here?" I inquired. I had a fondness for the stuff - A Stark family trait? Most likely.

"No." He was once again reading his book, and I furrowed my eyebrows.

Arrogant fuck.

"Do you have a childhood issue with Star Trek?" I asked subtly.

He looked up at me, "What?"

"Never mind," I tutted, aliens these days, "Why are we on a spaceship?"

"Seven billion people on your puny planet and spaceship is the most inventive word you conjure?" He drawled out, crossing one leg over the other, "Where else should we be?"

"Not in space?" I suggested, ignoring his 'puny planet' jibe.

"No," He sighed, "Life forces can be detected on planets-"

"Like Star Trek," I interrupted.

"I'd rather you keep absurd reference comments to yourself," He continued, giving me a stern look, "This vessel contains everything we need to stay both hidden and within range of Earth. It is rather advanced."

"You need explain this sort of sh-"

Another obscene glare from him caused me to pause and reevaluate my words, "You need to be more informative of what you say to me, you're an almost-god."

"We need to remain close to earth in order for me to teleport." He said in monotone as if it were the most obvious thing, "And this is a battle voyager vessel. Not mine."

"Then whose?" I asked the most important questions, I really did.

He smirked a little, "I'm just borrowing it."

Oh, complete badassery right there.

"What do you need from me?" I asked, pushing as far as I could.

He raised an eyebrow at the sudden question as I unfolded my legs, "I want answers. Now."

"Let's see, what questions have you asked me in the past hour? I am unaware of this Star Trek. No, there are no crew members aboard this vessel anymore. They were not needed," He informed with an sarcastic attitude, "This vessel can be powered by a singular person. It is equipped with both weapons and defence, which is why we are here; I must remain hidden from both the all-seer and Thor. For now."

"I'm not going to question it," I retorted.

That shit sounded complicated.

He had returned to reading his book, paying no attention to my questioning glares - he had killed the whole crew of this ship, proof that he had to reason to care for the health of others as long as his life was the one to remain in tact.

"So,"

No response.

He turned another page, almost teasingly.

"How are you on this fine evening?"

Another page.

I sighed, "Are you even listening to me?"

"No."

"I'm bored," I tried, watching his unmoving body posture.

His eyes were on the book and scanning the pages, but I could tell that he was not reading, only amused in irritating me.

"Read to me." I started.

"No."

"Why?" I pushed, refraining from calling him a swear of some sort.

"I need no reason."

"Damn." I watched as his mouth curled into a smile and he glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You little shit."

He raised an eyebrow and shut the book slowly and precisely. His look was playful and I waited.

"Amelia," He said slowly, "Go bother someone else."

"Aw," It was my turn to mock him. There was no-one else to bother.. I sat down a few chairs away from him, "I didn't realise I was bothering you."

"Highly." He murmured, acting as if he was busy once again.

"Liar."

"They do call me Silvertounge." He informed, the stupidly great grin stuck to his face, casting shadows across his cheekbones.

Did he realise how... Was he aware that he had a pleasant appearance?

It's as if he used magic on himself to alter his appearance to give him those perfe-

No.

Eyes. And his hair, it was blacker than black, and his jaw bones raced to his perfec-

What.

Chin. His eyes glistened and I wondered if they were like that naturally. Oh.

Shit. No.

Now I was thinking about him. How.. Not me. I physically shook myself and Loki raised an eyebrow. I was having an off day, it was allowed.

I couldn't help it if he was 'good looking'. I was bored, I had nothing else to do. I was on a spaceship with a not-so-mad man. How could I possible remain myself when I hadn't had a breath of fresh air in what seemed like years?

A spaceship.

"I know." I replied to his words without thinking yet again. "I sound like such a creep. I think you are slowly stripping away my sanity, God."

He scowled at me and childishly threw a scrunched up piece of paper that hit me on the shoulder. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Are you also the god of games?" I grinned.

"In some cultures." He shrugged his shoulders and I laughed, throwing the paper back at him.

He was looking the other way as if he could spare no interest in me, but just before the scrunched up paper hit him where it should have, which was on the head, it incinerated into little particles of ash.

I gasped, looking at the ashes as they floated to the ground, "Spoilt sport."

There was a short-lived silence in which I thought about what the hell was wrong with me. I had been taken from Earth - because that happened to people everyday, right? - and placed on a space ship - again, what the hell - only to find out that magic wasn't some childish fiction - with fairies and witches - and I suddenly had a chance to unleash the built up anger and hatred that I contained - I really wasn't a good person - and my only ally was a god. A god. It was as though I had fallen asleep reading a random book and accidentally slipped into it. This was all a dream.

"Dinner?" He asked, for the third time this week.

Where was the fun in obliging?

"No." It was my turn for the fun and games.

"Why?" He asked, still flicking through that book of his.

"I need no reason," I grinned from ear to ear, standing up and retreating back to the door. I stopped at the door and turned back to him, awaiting his reaction.

"You little shit." He copied.

He stole my words and I froze as it sounded funny coming out of his mouth, I had not heard him swear before.

It was most definitely my turn to raise an eyebrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**[A/N I'm new to so forgive any mistakes/problems; thank you!]**

**Meanwhile In England**

As soon as the jet landed on unknown soil, the three silent yet on edge Avengers hastily made their way into the awaiting car situated next to the dark runway.

Stark met Clint's hardened eyes and sighed. They had spent the six hour journey drowning their sorrows, until Natasha grew tired of their boredom and beat them at each drinking game... Naturally, she was of course, Russian. But that wasn't what had pushed the mood so beneath the clouds, Stark had informed Clint of all the mishaps with Amelia and Joanna. And that Joanna was now dead... The mood had dramatically decreased.

As expected.

Clint was angry with Stark to begin with, because Stark had bit back the truth until he had started with the liquid confidence. But who could blame him? His sister-in-law was dead, his niece was missing, presumably dead, though Stark wouldn't even consider the possibility. Stark didn't have thorough contact with Joanna, but she was still family. They were the only family Stark had.

And Natasha? Despite being a very controlled over her emotions, felt a small pang of sympathy for her two friends.

She was dating Barton at the time Amelia had dismantled all contact, and he did not maintain control over his emotions. She'd heard endless stories of Barton and Amelia's adventures, and how Amelia had the skill to take down those larger than herself; Natasha had immediately taken interest. She'd apparently saved Barton's ass before, Natasha smiled at the thought. Things like that were not easily forgotten by Barton.

Herself and Barton were very alike in that demeanour, he had, after all, saved her life.

It was 4am and they were all exhausted, Stark could barely focus on the buttons in the elevator that would take him to his floor within the hotel. His room was on a random floor, in a random room.

Before the jet had left, he'd asked Pepper to get them two rooms in the best hotel in a city called Leeds. He was somewhat surprised when he had entered the Hilton Hotel in Leeds City Centre, the whole ordeal barely costing him a thing... He was a billionaire after all. Those who worked in the early hours around the hotel treated him overly-nice, he just subconsciously bypassed it as he staggered into his room, thanking his drunken ass for having the audacity to lock the door.

He kicked the shoes from his feet as he fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes as Amelia's face appeared behind his eyelids.

He didn't force it away as he used to, refusing to allow the guilt to dominate every cell of his being. But he had to accept the facts, for once in his god damn life he had to accept that there was nothing left for him to do. He wanted Amy to hit him, to slap him, anything. She refused acknowledge his existence. He was nothing but responsible for her dads death in her eyes. He dreamed for forgiveness, he prayed for it, he thrived for it. But this hurt more than anything he had ever faced.

It hurt more than the god damn shrapnel.

At the thought, his chest began to ache, the last he had saw of her, she had ignored his entire existence. She had just stared into deep nothingness, melancholy in her eyes. That was the biggest wound. He had ruined her life, deprived her of normality. Intelligence was not a bad thing, but she was very intelligent. Combat skills were no negative, either, but she was highly trained.

Friends were a good thing, and to which she had none... And family at that. She had nothing. And it was all his fault. If he hadn't listened to his daddy dearest, he wouldn't be CEO of Stark Industries, he wouldn't have been kidnapped to be help of an ongoing Cold War. He wouldn't be Iron Man.

Being a superhero was not a terrible thing, either. It had its pros; he saved lives, he repaid for the bad deeds he had done, he was a role model to children worldwide. He had pepper. And yet a small part of him wished he wasn't just some superhero. Others would tell him it was pure madness to think such thoughts, but the demons of the past were too strong. If he wasn't Tony Stark he would have a family. A safe family. Amelia would have had a normal life, friends, normality.

But somebody had to do it, somebody had to make the sacrifices for the good of others. Someone had to make sure that the human race didn't tear itself apart. But why him? He wasn't a necessity. He wasn't needed. The world had Banner, Barton, Widow, Cap.. Heck, they even had S.H.I.E.L.D despite their child-like tenancies. But no, the world needed Iron Man.

Time-machines didn't exist, he tested the theory himself.

It was too late. Mistakes had been made, people had died. People had suffered, things had happened at fault of himself. He wasn't going to cry about it, but he wasn't going to be okay with it either. He tried to calm his thoughts with deep breaths as he pulled the covers to his neck, knowing sleep was inevitable but tried anyway.

Clint and Natasha, on the other hand, were in the middle of a heated disagreement. Clint cursed Stark for being such a child when it came to himself and Natasha, he also cursed the day he ever told Stark of his thoughts - attraction - towards Natasha. Stark literally voted for the idea of Natasha and Clint being an item, which stirred an awkward embarrassment within both of them.

Today's unfortunate events of mishaps included one bed, two spies, and a refusal to share the bed. Despite Clint being the male in the situation, he was drunk and tired, and stubborn. But Natasha was also intoxicated and stubborn.

"You're the badass Russian, you sleep on the sofa." Barton moaned and kicked the bed sloppily.

His child-like tendencies amused Natasha and she just raised an eyebrow as he, without a word, slipped under the sheets and smiled to himself. Drunk Barton was not the smartest of Barton's. The smile quickly diminished as he felt the weight of the bed increase as Natasha climbed into the bed also.

They both childishly tugged the quilt in the small moments of silence.

"See if I care." He murmured into the pillow, allowing several silent moments to pass before he turned to face a sleeping Natasha.

He studied her momentarily before sighing at her peaceful state. He missed Natasha. She had cared about him... Once. The thought was an anchor in his mind, glueing him to the hope that she wasn't completely emotionless, she just chose her job over everything else. As did he. They were a toxic couple and that's why they were no longer a couple.

Despite his immaculate way of hiding it, she had cut him deep. He used to be a little boy, nothing used to matter, but what's a boy supposed to do in a world full of poison? He was no longer a child, he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D and was forced to put himself first. But he knew, deep down, that he would throw himself in front of any incoming bullet if it were aimed in her direction. The choice made him vulnerable, deemed him weak... It had been drilled into him that attachment was a large vulnerability and so was not allowed under any circumstances.

He couldn't deny that himself and Natasha were the most skilled team when paired together, anyone in Budapest would be a first-hand witness to that.

He sighed as he forced himself to analyse her sleeping face, he turned himself completely, reminiscing in the peacefulness she maintained while asleep... She looked content.

And happier.

He hated to admit it, but the days he had spent with her were the best days he had lived.

"I do care, I really do." He whispered as he planted a kiss on the top of her head, before being honourable and getting up to leave for the sofa.

No matter what, he would always lose this game with her. He wasn't as good as her at suppressing what he felt, he envied her ability to do so. Natasha was a battle he would never win, the only target he would never hit.

As he moved himself backwards, he felt her fingers clasp within his and he allowed himself to be pulled back down onto the bed. She moved her head onto his shoulder and allowed her hand to rest on his chest, his breathing hitched in his throat as he watched her hand bob up and down on his chest with each breath he forced himself to take.

Natasha remained silent and her eyes remained closed. She wasn't all that drunk, but she allowed herself to live a little more when everyone else was, their judgement was clouded by the liquid and she could act a little more like herself. She had witnessed too much in her life to accept emotions on the surface, and so she felt them like pinpricks in the centre of her chest. Heartless Widow, they would say, she would never care for anything but her next objective. She would never love, they used to say, she'd never feel happiness.

Little did Clint, or anybody else for that matter, know it, but she also cared.

She really, really did.

That was her only fear in existence. That and maybe pissing off the green man.

Stark had a difficult time sleeping, for every time his brain drifted to a dreamy halt, he was jolted awake by another possibility.

How had Joanna died? Where was Amy? Did she know? Would she ever forgive him? Why was Loki in England? What if it were-

He sat upright, groaning. The alcohol had lost its affects and he was sorely lacking sleep. The time zones were not dramatically different as he had faced much worse, yet he was not only feeling the emotional drain of the unfortunate situation, but also the physical drain of sleep deprivation. He missed his workshop, for whenever he couldn't sleep, he'd climb from the warmth of his bed and into the warmth of his workshop where he could maintain dreams and subside miracles.

It was 10am and he had given up all attempts on sleep, smirking to himself as he glanced into Clint and Natasha's room opposite his, at least they had come to an arrangement of sharing the bed.

He didn't wake them as he retreated back to his room to shower and change, only JARVIS to keep him company. He was rather proud of the small earpiece he had made, it was no larger than a pea and was black; no wires included. He could hear JARVIS through it and JARVIS could hear him.

He couldn't yet make calls from it, it was only a prototype. He treasured it nonetheless. Everything he had ever created he silently treasured, from DUMMY to JARVIS, his works were masterpieces and he wasn't afraid to admit so. Not many people could create their own AI.

"JARVIS, make a four day reservation for this hotel." He spoke as he glanced out the window at the rainy weather.

He tried to think of a time he had actually seen it sunny in Britain... To which he was left clueless. All he knew about this city named Leeds was that it was in Northern England, in Yorkshire, and that Happy once mentioned he would love to go to their annual music festival.

JARVIS sounded into his right ear and the voice startled him slightly as he had forgotten the earpiece completely, "Sir, the hotel reservations are complete. Though you have been moved to room 245. Shall I call Director Fury and inform him of your prolonged stay?"

"Nah, he'll get the drift when we don't show up tomorrow. Send a map of Leeds to my phone, oh, and directions to the police station." He informed as he picked up his jacket.

"As you wish, sir."

And with that he left the hotel room, venturing down the maze-like corridors of the hotel until he reached the shiny elevator that was at the end. Thankfully, Leeds was not a well-known international place, and so he doubted running into anyone familiar.

His thoughts were proved wrong as the doors slid shut and he glanced at the other participant within the elevator.

The main pro of being a Stark; you could maintain a calm composure even as your insides tore themselves apart with shock and maybe a hint of fear... After all, he was stood in a confined box, suspended in mid-air with a highly intelligent God-Of-Anything-But-Good.

"Fancy seeing you here." Stark announced as if greeting an old friend.

"You're awfully confident, even without that tin suit of yours." Loki smirked, but mostly informing Stark that he was useless in strength against him with lack of suit, it wasn't the first time Stark had faced him suit-less...

But he was at least wearing the bracelet his suit could detect back on the Stark Tower. His suit was still in the jet that had flown him to this damn island. He also lacked the bracelet. He made a small mental note to make more of them and to get JARVIS to make a reminder for him to actually wear them.

"I like to think of it more as an iron... Exoskeleton." Tony replied, matching Loki's smirk with a genius smirk of his own.

Loki replied with a raised eyebrow, more how Stark's attitude heavily reminded him of Amelia's.

It was rather intriguing.

She was rather intriguing to Loki; she resented her fellow Midgardians as he did his fellow Asgardians, though they had done nothing to them personally. The fact that he was not human made something tick behind her eyes, Loki had noticed this almost instantly; she was also intrigued with him. It worried him that Amelia was similar to him, as he was a literal god and she was merely human. And because he was a being of the up-most slyness, he didn't like the likelihood of her leaving a dagger within his back. He had to keep a close eye on her, but she was so prone to danger.

In the time she had been within his presence, she had witnessed Åsgårdsreien though he had not been able to see it within natural comparability. That damn painting and it's hidden abilities. She had also touched it.

There was something about her that pulled him in from first glance. As soon as he saw her, he knew she would be the perfect partner to accompany him with the fall of The Avengers. It was only a matter of time. She was more like a younger version of Loki, he had concluded, she definitely had the reckless percentage to a high. Also, her lack of emotion proved a good trait to have, emotion was useless. She wasn't as naive as her fellow humans, she cared not for their well-being.

Amelia Stark was Loki's main issue, he felt the need to protect her from unnecessary harm. He had made himself vulnerable by healing her. That had angered him, he had been ready to break her neck...

Until he had glanced into her eyes, they lacked fear and contained pure obscurity. She should have been terrified of him, and yet she was not.

His anger had amused her, she had found his weakness and built on it, knowing that he could have killed her within seconds. He was still figuring her out, but she also angered him.

Loki was above her in every way yet he didn't kill her when he should have, instead, he compromised his whole plan so that she was used... Alive. She was beneath him, and yet... He had found her worthy of living, even in Midgardian consideration. He didn't want to kill her, but he couldn't become attached. She was mortal and would die within a second of his lifespan anyhow.

Tony remained remarkably on edge as the floors ticked away and the elevator slowly descended, before hitting the emergency stop button in an instant and pinning Loki back against the wall. Tony knew he was nothing in strength compared to his opponent, but he pushed with all his might anyhow.

He stared at Loki unblinking, "Why are you here?"

Loki grinned that trademark grin, Stark's grip was nothing to him, but he didn't push him away nonetheless. If it made the human feel safer, then why not toy a little?

"Why Stark, I thought we had a little something special." Loki retorted, almost causing Tony to almost choke on the mere air around him, innuendos were new to Loki, but he had picked up on them fast.

"Why are you here?" Stark demanded once more, pushing him further back into the elevator wall, "Answer me you son of a bitch-"

"And that's where young Amelia gets her mouth from." Loki grinned wickedly, "Unless her mother has an even worse choice for words."

This time Stark did choke on simple air, he pulled back from Loki as his heart rocketed bullets through his veins.

There was silence as Stark stared into Loki's green eyes, searching for an answer... Searching for anything that indicated Loki was responsible for Joanna's death and was therefore involved with Amelia, the thought gnawed at him from the inside.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?" Loki raised an eyebrow, oblivious to what Stark was assuming, "That question could mean many things, I'm awfully-"

"Did you kill Joa-" Stark choked before forcing himself to stand straight, he was tired. And breaking.

He regained his 'badass' composure to face the inquisitive god, "Amelia's mom."

Loki's façade dropped dramatically before a questionable look dominated his face, "Now that is a problem."

Stark was beyond confused. He had no reason to believe Loki was not responsible for any one person's death, yet Loki had reacted indifferently to the news. Stark definitely needed time to think, questions and answers were trafficking through his mind, stopping for nothing.

Being subdued within a meter of Loki was doing him no favours. But Amelia-

"Until next time," Loki announced as the elevator buzzed back into life, he sarcastically saluted and dissipated into thin air, it didn't even register in Starks mind when the doors slid open and he just stared emptily.

A few staff buzzed around him, firing questions about the emergency stop that only irritated Stark like the persistence of a fly. He simply waved them off as he stepped through the front door that was being held open. He mumbled a vague 'thank you' to the doorman as he breathed in the fresh, Yorkshire air. He needed to go through each of his thoughts, process what the hell had happened in that elevator...

Loki had appeared and fucked everything up, as per usual.

He walked mindlessly through the streets of central Leeds with no particular destination as of yet. Stark had an underplaying feeling that Loki wasn't the cause of Joanna's death, nor that Amy was in potential danger. Yet.

That was a fear to Tony, if Loki was not responsible, then who? It could have just been a local criminal, and Amy could have just simply run away... He wouldn't have been surprised. But there was something pulling at the edge of his mind, wanting to reveal what was most likely hidden within the death.

"Sir," JARVIS sounded through Stark's small earpiece, striking him back into reality, "Mr Barton is trying to reach you."

"Put him through," Stark muttered, sitting on a bench outside a small record shop that held a few old band tshirts in the window. They would have interested Stark further, if it were not for Barton's demanding voice through Stark's phone.

"No-no. Barton, don't make assumptions," Stark replied, answering each of Barton's speedy questions, "Yes, I will refer to you by your last name if I please, no, Loki did not hurt me. I am fine. Have a fun night? Don't threaten me, Clint, it sounds almost humorous. Meet me at the nearest police station whenever you're ready."

Stark rolled his eyes as he brought up the directions to the police station on his phone, which was luckily a five minute walk down from here he was sat. Technology was a huge time-saver, without it, Stark would have been extremely late to almost anything, accidentally late, that means. He would have also been completely lost.

No more than fifteen minutes later, he stood at a wooden reception desk facing a man who was making calls, trying to find Detective Chadwick.

He had stared in awe as Stark had first spoke to him, this was the usual reaction of someone when Stark spoke to them... It had lost it's touch though. He was just human. He kept his mouth closed as he waited, his mood as of late had not been the most delightful.

Detective Chadwick wasn't very tall, but her eyes burned with ambition and determination and a pretty face to match. She was dressed in formal attire; a blazer, black blouse and matching trousers, and her hair was just above shoulder length, an immaculate shade of red.

A lot of people in the room had gone silent when Stark had entered, most being 'Iron Man' fans, and some being 'Stark is a fucking billionaire' fans. Either way, he could use this to his advantage, it mattered not to him as the current matters at hand over-powered any guilt he may have previously felt from using his postion to get what he wanted.

"Mr Stark-"

"Call me Tony." He smiled his usual 'business' smile as she led him to what he presumed was an office.

"Mr Stark," She continued, poker faced as Stark raised an eyebrow at her defiance, "You've caused quite a bit of commotion."

She quite obviously disliked Stark for his unneeded involvement in her case... And Stark felt a pang of anger.

How could he ignore what was happening when it involved him? He would never let things pass him by at the best of times, and now his involvement was necessary.

"My sister-in-law is dead, my niece is missing, do you expect me to just sit around and let you take care of it?" He glowered at her, and she widened her eyes momentarily, unsuspecting of his 'I actually give a shit' face, before regaining her former self.

"Mr Stark, I don't care about your fame and international presence, I'd rather you stay away than cause more trouble than is needed." She returned, crossing her arms over her chest, she cared about her work and Stark would cause a lot more hassle than what he was worth.

Stark sighed, she was one of those people; the ones who think you are an arrogant piece of work because your name is high in the lights. Which was true. Stark was not denying that he was arrogant; he was always right anyhow. He knew he was selfish; he just didn't care at that moment in time.

"It's my fucking family," Tony snapped, "I don't know what that means to you, but my niece is all I have left." He calmed down a little, holding back on allowing himself to lose control because nobody was at fault, "All I ask is for the details. I want to know what you know."

"You are no member of the law," She sighed, her face had softened slightly at his small rant, "I can't promise you anything."

He hesitated before replying honestly, "If I am not granted permission, I have my ways."

"I said I'll try." She repeated, reaching onto the desk and pushing numbers into the phone.

He took that as his queue to leave her office and returned to the reception area, awaiting Natasha and Clint.

Detective Chadwick had managed to spare them ten minutes at the crime scene without interference, despite giving them a solid ten minute rules and boundaries talk, and an argument with Stark who refused to wear the rubber white clothing so that he wouldn't contaminate the crime scene. At that, he called the scene investigating team many names.

He entered the crime scene without the suit, cockily smirking at Clint who shot death glares at Stark as he pulled at the white rubber material. His smirk quickly faded as he stepped into the living room; he was in a room in the house where Amelia forced herself to spend the rest of her days.

Because of him.

He was in a room that held a repeated cycle of history of Joanna killing herself with each sip of alcohol. He had entered a room that once contained the last of his remaining family. There were bottles lying everywhere, and glass on the floor in one corner. Stark had known Joanna was an alcoholic, and he had tried his best to help, but he wasn't good enough.

How could he have allowed Amelia to grow up in such an environment?

Of course he kept tabs on her until she turned 18, but he should have done more... He could have done more.

As always.

The place reeked of stale alcohol, and the musty smell got progressively worse as he climbed the stairs. Clint and Natasha remained momentarily in the living room, allowing Tony to witness the god awful scene that awaited in the bedroom alone.

The body had been removed and taken to receive an autopsy, Stark hadn't focused too much on the details.

He had expected blood, though. There was none.

What he witnessed was a mass of rubble, glass and torn fabric. The room had literally been blown apart... It's walls remaining strong. The most peculiar thing in the room to Stark was the strange black marks on the wall.

The area beneath the wall was clean... That was where the body was found, he realised with a wrench of his stomach. He stepped forward to analyse the weird marks on the wall.

"JARVIS," He said as he pulled out his phone and held it to the wall, "What is this stuff?"

His earpiece was silent for a moment, before JARVIS finally replied, "They appear to be scorch marks, sir."

"Not so much scorch marks," The all too familiar British voice sounded, "More.. Magic signatures."

Stark spun to meet the calm god, who held up his hands as if calming a violent animal, "Rest assured, human, this was not my doing."

"Listen here you son of-"

"Now, now. Calm down," He smirked, "If this was my doing, I would not have left that poor excuse of a signature behind. My marks are more... Population decreasing."

Stark felt heavily deflated, the whole situation was running continuous circles within his mind. Loki's appearance was not violent, he was standing in a casual stance, more relaxed than normal... Stark remembered back to his one-on-one encounter with Loki, he had most definitely changed; he legitimately looked less insane and he had not yet made any threat in consideration of human lives. And Tony was still alive. This was not the New York Loki at all. He was up to something, which worried Stark beyond extent.

In New York, it was better as he knew Loki's motives and what he wished to do, whereas now, Loki was just making random appearances with no threat for life...

Or so it seemed. Stark was never to quick to judge Loki's actions, but whatever he was planning, it was big. He finally retorted to taking a moment to collect his bearings, before stepping forward and resuming his Stark regime.

"Firstly, if you interrupt me one more time, I will take pleasure in tearing out your lungs," Stark smiled sarcastically for a few seconds, before pursing his lips straight and menacing, "Where is Amelia?"

"She is more than capable of looking after herself." Loki reminded him, but more pushing for hitting the famous Stark nerve that has gotten Tony arrested on many occasions.

Loki was pushing buttons, he wanted to know the stability of Tony. Meaning he needed to know Tony's current layout of mind, so that he could counteract upon it. Stark really disliked Loki.

He despised him.

Stark took a moment to breathe, before replying, "She is a Stark... After all."

Loki, being the obvious god of not actually giving a shit, shrugged his shoulders and glanced around, "Yes, I can see that from her mother."

There was a victory silence for Loki, making a heartless joke about a heartfelt situation to which definitely cause a mentality snap within Tony's mind, this was determinable as Tony launched himself across the room at Loki, but as he leapt, Loki disappeared and Tony fell into nothing just as Barton rounded the corner.

He looked at Stark with a humorous eyebrow raised, but a simple mention of the name 'Loki' caused a small scowl to form on Barton's face as he pulled Tony up and ran down the stairs, phone in hand. Barton had unfinished business with Loki to settle, the son of a bitch would serve justice.


	9. Chapter 9

I waited impatiently in the kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the hardwood table and tapping my fingers along the solid table top continuously. An hour previously, Loki had 'teleported' to Earth to initiate the plan of action. He had also told me not to sit on the table as chairs were for sitting, not tabletops, but considering I didn't exactly stay within boundaries well, I found myself sitting on the table.

I was still hesitant around the word 'teleport', I was never fond of Star Trek as a child, the whole ordeal was seemingly far-fetched... It grew on me okay.

And the whole 'You have to see it to believe it' thing was bullshit as I was seeing weeks worth of so-called magic usage and yet I was still determining whether or not I was recovering from a fatal head injury causing platonic illusions. I was still sitting on the table, all neutral faced and lighthearted, or I was...

Until a horrendously bright light forced my eyes shut and a familiar sickness filled my stomach and my organs felt fuzzy once again.

Fucking Loki once I get a hold of that snivelling little god he will no longer be able to funct-

"So nice of you to join me." Spoke Loki, "Open your eyes you fool."

I opened one eye and death glared him until he furrowed his brows in amusement, I stood up but my head felt incorrectly programmed and I swayed until I felt Loki's arms on both of my shoulders to steady me. I stopped swaying and took the opportunity to scowl at him. The dizziness did not stop my murderous glare or the explosion of words that were ready to erupt from my mind. Didn't 'mortals' pass out for day because of this shit?

"Oh hell no," I started.

"It's different," He interrupted before I began my 'I-hate-you-and-your-stupid-magic-what-the-hell-man-you-need-to-stop' rant, "Your body has become accustomed. There will be no long lasting side-affects. You are not going to deem yourself unconscious for a few days."

"Weeks." I mumbled lowly in return, his arms still on my shoulders.

He laughed a little as I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't see what was so funny. My human mortality made me vulnerable to stupid god teleportation.

"You're speaking out-loud," He reminded me and I instantly shut my mouth, the movement in place causing me to feel intoxicated.

"Your human mortality means you are not accustomed to changes in space and time instance at the rate my body is, each time the whole ordeal will become more sustainable. Also it is no way stupid. If you must-"

"I don't care." I said almost childishly, "I feel stupid and fuzzy. I feel drunk without the positivity of the alcohol. I feel angry that you keep making decisions without informing me first. Next time, inform me that you're about to zap my ass unwillingly somewhere.." I glanced around, taking a breath in my rant, "Where the fuck are we?"

We were in a hotel room, I could tell that much. An expensive hotel at that; the walls were white and clean, and the room, despite being a bedroom, was rather spacious. Everything looked overly-clean... It was annoying.

He smirked knowingly, "Your uncles hotel room, situated within your current city of living."

Damn that smirk, I was going to start calling it trademark if it didn't stop, it was a pretty smirk. I mentally shook myself. And mentally slapped myself. And then my eyes opened wide in shock. We were in my uncles hotel room... I didn't see the point in teleporting here.

I just did not understand Loki as a whole, shouldn't we have gone as far away from any Avenger-Related thing as possible?

"And why in gods name are we here?" I almost snapped, tired of his games.

And tired in general.

I couldn't sleep. Damn insomnia.

"Because I am not stupid, dear girl." Loki let his arms drop from my shoulders and I sat on the bed, Loki walked around a little as he spoke, "Stark can trace my teleportations. He is smart, that uncle of yours. So I only go where I want him to know I've been. I may have made a minor appearance here earlier, so it would make sense to him."

"Another thing you forgot to tell me." I mumbled, laying back on the comfy bed and suppressed a yawn.

He sighed, "Don't take it to heart, we have things to do... Plans to continue."

"One more thing," I began as I stood up, "You teleported me here, yet you were not with me to touch me and zap. How? Doesn't it require you to be touching whatever you are teleporting? Or at least know of their whereabouts?"

"You were sat on the table." He smiled cockily.

I cursed.

We were moving towards the closed bedroom doors when a door from somewhere else in the hotel suit opened... And then closed. Distinct voices could be heard, debating something hectic, and then a raise of voice.

Shit.

"Oh." Loki stated solemnly as we both moved back away from the door, the voices were getting closer to the door and I mouthed 'teleport' to Loki, who just shook his head and glanced around looking for any possibility of a way out.

A wardrobe door caught my eye and I yanked open the door, sighing at the very cramped space; for a supposedly expensive hotel suit, its wardrobe was remarkably small. And then I saw the second door near the bedroom door.. Oh. That would have been the actual walk-in-wardrobe. This was just a spare. There wasn't enough time to dart across the room to it, and so, Loki pushed me into the spare wardrobe.

What sort of hotel room has a spare wardrobe?

This one apparently.

He followed me in and pulled the door shut, his movements were silent and he motioned for me to stay silent - I wasn't fucking stupid, jeez. The door remained slightly open and so I had to push myself against Loki so that I was hidden in the darkness. We were stomach to stomach... Almost. He was taller than me as I only reached his neck with my head.

There were multiple voices now in the bedroom and I took a moment to silently breath, or not breath at all, Loki's scent filling my nostrils as I thanked god the weird not-space-ship had baths. I couldn't pinpoint what he smelled like, though; there was a distinction of leather, due to his leather-in-some-places clothing. He definitely looked like he belonged in the 1800s sometimes.

My heart thundered in my chest, and I had a faint worry that it was audible. A stupid worry. It would be a shame to destroy such a well-thought plan. When I was pushed to the edge in awkward situations, my mind wandered paths of delirious possibilities and thoughts as I tried to focus.

The voices continued to go on, and I could decipher two; My uncles, and Barton's. I froze. Barton. Why was Barton here? Oh.

Oh god.

There was also a woman's voice that only spoke in important intervals and with witty remarks; she sounded likeable.

I scrunched up my face at the small swell of emotions in my stomach, and I forced myself to concentrate on the facts; Barton had stood by my uncle. He could have helped. He let me go. He sided with Tony Stark and left me to rot. The small swell of emotions quickly disappeared and I sighed a little. I was definitely starting to lose it. I needed out more.

I looked up at Loki who was looking down at me with a curious expression... Or so it seemed. It was a little dark. My face was still scrunched up and my heart flipped any time I heard my uncles voice. More with anger than anything. I just wanted to repeatedly punch something... Or someone... I retorted to just pursing my lips and letting out a small agitated breath as I clenched my fists tighter.

My heart rate continued to climb and my each breath I took became more forced as the seconds increased. My head felt overly warm and I could feel anger burn in my chest.

Loki put his hand on my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. Everything started to decimate - my anger started to cool - and I let myself be calmed. He lifted his head back up to focus on the voices.

His simple hand on my shoulder managed to slow my heartbeat and allow me to focus.

I really disliked this guy.

I didn't need comfort.

The voices stopped causing me to awake back into reality, and I realised the voices had left the room, the only sound I could hear was Loki's soft breathing and a faint muffle of far-away voices. I stepped back to put space between myself and Loki, and gravity brought his arm down to his side and my shoulder felt too light in return.

"That was-" I began before the wardrobe doors were brought open abruptly from the outside.

I managed to refrain from jumping which caused me to have small moment of victory, until I saw the angry looking red-headed woman on the other side of the doors. Loki stared at her and brought his hand up, and she froze where she was stood.

He looked back to me as I finished my sentence, "...Close. Fuck."

"Ah, the spider. We meet again." He spoke to her frozen stature, before turning to me, "Plan B."

I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration. Plan B? What plan B? We had no plan B? Another point to the 'Loki forgot to inform me of something important again'.

"Go with them. I took you hostage. Tell them nothing of our plans," He stepped around her to make sure the bedroom door was closed, "Try to refrain from getting attached, it seems to cause... Problems."

Well fuck you too. "You honestly think that I am low enough to become attached to-"

"You're human." He snapped, "I'll contact you soon."

"Loki!" I snapped in return, yanking on his arm. "I apologise if me being human causes problems for you, but there are more important matters at hand."

I motioned to the frozen redhead and he shrugged, looking down at my hand that had a tight grip on his arm, "Kill her."

I let go of his arm in disbelief, "Oh. So you're not man enough to kill with your own two hands?"

"I killed hundreds of people the last time I visited dear Earth. You test my patience, girl." He bit back and I froze, before straightening my whole stance.

Two could play at this game.

I regained my thoughts and stared at him, unblinking. The rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins and I could feel anger seeping into my blood...

"I have had enough of your superior bullshit. If you call me 'girl' one more fucking time," I threatened moving forwards, pointing my finger in his direction to express my point, "Or 'mortal', I will tear you apart."

I was slightly shocked at the words I had said as they left my mouth, but they sounded solid and threatening, and I was happy with how serious they sounded. I did not sound like a child biting off more than she could chew. He tilted his head to the side with a hardened face, analysing my motives. He then motioned to the red-head once again.

"I'm pretty sure killing her will alarm S.H.I.E.L.D highly." I returned cockily, as if the simple idea of killing her was a stupid resort.

"Scared of a little justice?" He raised an eyebrow.

He was testing me again. The mood had almost instantly changed from angry and cracking to 'oh' in 0.2 seconds... Loki was a roller-coaster of intense atmospheres, and I was a very negative person. I reacted negatively to almost every situation I was in because I simply did not give a shit of possible outcomes, Loki had come to realise that... I hoped.

The tension of the vicious plot I was involved in was definitely causing me to be express my flair for dramatics like that of a teenage girl. I closed my eyes and breathed to refrain from losing my shit. I am Amelia Stark.

"No," I answered, returning his solid glare, "But killing her defeats the purpose of sneaking, does it not?"

He nodded satisfactorily, before turning to face me with a look of pure threat upon his face, "Do not dare to threaten me ever again."

I shrugged my shoulders in reply, my usual persona was back. What gave him the right to push me around and be the boss of me? I did not care.

I was sure I had stated that before.

I narrowed my eyes at him in defiance, "I simply do not give a shit."

In a matter of seconds his firm, pale hand was around my neck and my weak body was being pinned to the wall, all air circulation being cut off from my lungs. My feet were barely touching the floor - the toes of my shoes just barely scraping. I struggled for a moment, deemed useless against his god strength.

"You are nothing compared to me, human." He spat, holding me against the wall.

I forced my eyes to remain open and unblinking as a silent moment was bypassed before he let go of my neck and stepped back. I tried to not gasp for air too noticeably, before taking one steady breath. I could still feel where his hand had made contact with my neck as a small throb pulsed in the spots his fingers had bruised. I was lucky he had not broken my neck.

I punched him across the face.

A successful, and proud, blow like that would have knocked any human unconscious, but for him, it just snapped his head lightly to the side, causing him to snarl. I had just reminded him of the punch that broke his nose back in the room on the ship, except this time, insanity did not occupy his eyes.

I had pride in the punch that I had landed, it reminded me I was not completely useless in a world full of those who may be stronger than me.

The red-head fell to the floor without warning, landing with a 'thump' and I glanced at her for no more than a split second, but in that small moment of time Loki pressed two of his fingers against my forehead, taking advantage of my stupidly distracted self, before he disappeared. The fuck.

I continued to stare at the place he previously stood in a blatant daze, unknowing of what was about to happen but my vision went dark as I joined the red-head in a painful heap on the floor. This time, there was no Loki to stop the abrupt fall of my body, all I could do was close my eyes and hope to whatever god was out there, that this plan would work.

Everything went completely black as I lost all consciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

I awoke in a dazed state, like the after effects of a recreational drug, highly surprised to find that there was no pain within the walls of my head; which was the usual when I found myself waking up from unplanned unconsciousness. Before I opened my eyes, I allowed previous events to run through my mind like the start of a tv show. Loki, argument, red-head, hotel room, unconsciousness. Wasn't that brilliant?

Another argument with a god, my uncle's hotel room and a stupid usage of magic that deemed me useless.

I had found myself to become a lot more contradicting with each word Loki spoke, it was like I legitimately searched for any reason to start an argument or dissect his words, as if each word was a lie – it also usually ended with a punch to Loki's face. I didn't mean to, per se, but it was hard to refrain from doing, especially since I found that myself and Loki had far too much in common. The lying side of life mostly. Minus the magic.

And the whole god thing.

"Amelia?" A familiar voice filled the silence.

The mere sound of the voice sprung memories in my mind, petty childhood memories that used to mean something to me, but have since long been forgotten. All I wanted to do was reach out with my arms and pull the culprit into my chest, refusing to let go, but. I knew there was no such option, that part of me was gone, burnt to ash. That part of me had died along with everything that meant anything died also. Not just my dad, but my mothers health, my general life, everything I cared about shattered and I was left to grow up within the rotten walls of a drunken household, not knowing if my mother was going to choke to death on her own vomit one night or if the man she brought home for the weekend was going to steal everything we own. That happened too many times for me to even try and prevent anymore.

That's why I wanted out.

Considering my uncle was here, he was most likely visiting her... She'd probably told him that I had left her all alone, oh how a terrible daughter I must be.

There was nothing left of her, either.

We had both lost ourselves when we had lost my father. I'm over it, now. And so is she. But when she started endlessly drinking, my childhood started seemingly decreasing, and as her care for me had all disappeared, so was the person that I used to be. I blame the way that I am on the many unfortunate events that I've grown up through, but some people have it worse.

I was just a selfish and spiteful person. I didn't seem to care. I used to care, I used to have a life worth living. I used to have a worth in this world. Tony Stark's niece, that's what I used to be. The public is oblivious to the famous Iron Man having a niece, but I'm more grateful than anything.

I used to wallow in self pity.

That had lasted a week when I was fourteen, until I realised how pathetic I was being and forced myself head first into a world far vaster than I had imagined with people far less tolerable than I had hoped. I didn't have friends. I didn't want friends. They were a luxury item I couldn't afford.

From my perspective, all of my thoughts portray me as a person who puts myself a lot higher than others, a person who thought themselves better than the rest. In reality, I thought myself worthless compared to those with love in their hearts, for they are capable of things such as love when all I see is vulnerability. I was selfish, I did what I needed to do to survive and cared not for the damage I caused in the process, but I was not worthy of humanity. As much as I hated them.

The insufferable truth.

I forced open my eyes, to find myself lying on the bed in the hotel room I had recently been 'trapped' in. Why couldn't Loki do the simple thing and teleport us out of here without having to cramp in a spare wardrobe?

I dared to sit up and felt the tingly slowness in my limbs, due to the magic that Loki had – without telling me, again – forced me to endure, taking the next step in the plan. He was mad at me, I understood that - he was such a child.

Things could have gone a lot more smoothly, and a lot more simpler... And easier. But this was Loki we were talking about, none of those words were vastly known to him. Instead, he forced me into the plan of action, obviously this was my fault, I had lost my temper and punched his pretty face. He was much more dramatic than I.

Though he would beg to differ.

And now I was left to improvise on enemy grounds with little idea of knowing what the actual plan was. He had not told me in great detail what he would get out of all this, just that he needed something from the famous Avengers and that 'most infuriating spy agency.'

He needed something they currently had in their possession. It was a risk I was currently taking, unknowing of the person I seemed to be siding with. I mean, he obviously knew the basics of what I wanted; it was not that difficult to piece together, I wanted to show everyone who knew of my name to know that I am not a child, and I will seek revenge for the selfish decisions that others have made.

Loki knew of the revenge part, but it was known to just me that I had things to prove to myself. And myself alone.

This was the final step in losing myself, for if I could follow through with this plan and end victorious with this so-called villain, then I am most certainly not who I was before, and I will give up hope that there is hope for me.

Hope for me being like every other person on our petty planet, hope for me being... Human. As much as I hated the world. And what if I succeed?

I wanted to succeed, I couldn't give a shit about anything living if I tried, I just needed to know what was going on within me. I would become the villain in a progressing world, and I knew it was the last step to pushing the switch that rid me of my 'humanity', once and for all. This was my journey to self-proclamation.

We had also briefly discussed what I could earn from this in a long run, a more permanent satisfaction.

I hated Earth, I wanted out.

He had said it was doable, but also that we should move on with matters at hand. As always.

Why would I want to leave Earth?

Because there was nothing left for me on the spinning ball of rock but pissy people, naive humans and many things I couldn't give a shit about. There was of course my mummy dearest, but I doubted that she would miss me for long. I didn't care for the rest, I couldn't even if I tried. I was tired.

Tired of the stupid human things.

Tired of being so human and lied to, of being thrown about like another pawn in a game and looked at like prey. I needed control. That is the part that I am most ashamed about, I am not a person of honour yet there is a small swell of guilt that claims me a petty coward for wanting to leave the only planet I have ever known.

My inner-child was also curious about the things beyond, it was such an embarrassing thing to bring up, but Loki had barely said a thing. He hadn't even looked up from the book he was reading.

I allowed my eyes to focus in the dimly lit room before allowing them to wander. I could decipher The One and Only sitting in a chair that had been pulled up to the side of the bed. He was slouched down the chair and did not look like the usual Tony Stark. I first noticed his lack of attire; he was wearing suit bottoms and a plain white vest and with noticeable black bags beneath his eyes... He was obviously exhausted.

What a shame.

We stared at each other, unblinking, before I forced my legs to the side to work my way from the bed and away from that damn man.

From past experience, I should have expected this, I should have been smart enough to realise that my legs were not yet ready to support the weight of my body after the use of magic, but it didn't register in my mind until I fell to the floor with an unsatisfied grunt.

How fluent.

I barely maintained by dignity as I began to push myself back up. I would do anything in this moment of time to be taken as far away from here as possible, I've been doing fine by myself.

My uncle moved quite quickly to help me but I snapped my head in his direction as he cautiously took another step and reached out to help.

"Don't touch me," I snapped.

He stopped where he was and stared with pure sorrow as I lifted myself with the help of the bed, I then staggered to the bedroom doors as quick as I could and pulled them open to reveal the lounging area.

I was really breaking my advantage streak here.

Red-head and the all too familiar Barton were sat on the sofa, a mere couple of meters away from where I stood. The back of the sofa was to the bedroom doors.

The second I had opened the door, both of their heads had turned to look as I inwardly caused. I stared for a moment, my breath hitching in my throat.

Clint Barton.

The all-famous Hawkeye.

Avenger.

He used to be a brother to me. A trainer. A protector. A friend. And now he's just somebody that I had been forced to add to my blacklist, who had stood by and watched as everything that I was fell to pieces. Who had lied to me about the basic truth, to 'protect' me. No. He had told me he would never allow anything to tear me from who I was, he promised that he would never leave.

My attention was momentarily flicked to the red-head, and I studied her for a second. If I was any other person, fear and panic would be coursing through my body, but I just waited for the words that signalled previous events. But she just stared back. She couldn't remember.

I forced myself to move forward to what seemed to be the kitchen area at the other side of the room.

I was still sporting my previous skinny jeans and plain white shirt, they were a little creased due to being in bed. The silence rung in my ears as I focused on the kitchen, glancing at the time on the wall. 7am. I had been unconscious for a full night. Well done Loki.

Pieces of my mind were coming back to me gradually, I was still in a groggy state of mind due to either the sleep or the magic.

Oh, glorious Earth food.

That was something I was going to miss if I took up the offer of leaving. I distracted myself with the art of making food. I put bread in the toaster and pulled out a jar of unopened honey from the cupboard.

Expensive hotels; to cater your every need.

"I could just call room service, or, uh, something." Stark spoke as he scratched the back of his neck, cutting through the very awkward silence.

I glanced at him as I continued opening the jar of honey, my face remaining with the same stern expression.

"I like that idea... Shall we?" Barton added, trying to ease the atmosphere from the tight tension we were currently breathing in, I hadn't originally planned on speaking, but I grew bored fast.

"It's been almost seven years, and those are the words you choose first to say?" I let slip from my mouth as I started to slaver the honey onto my toast and I refrained from smirking as I saw Barton tense from the corner of my eye.

The red-head remained her straight-back and firm posture on the sofa and Stark just sagged in front of the bedroom doors.

I turned and leaned back against the counter, one leg bent. I took a bite from my toast and stared, awaiting more nonsense.

"Food is always a great way to start a long waited conversation." He smiled and Tony allowed himself to drop into one of the armchairs, grunting a little.

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. A little. Barton glanced at Stark with furrowed eyebrows in a worried state as I took another prolonged bite of my toast.

"Tony, go sleep."

The red head glanced at Stark and nodded slightly, "You look terrible, go sleep."

"Gee, thanks." He muttered and stood up incoherently.

I liked her, she put things how they were, she didn't sugar coat things and she didn't smile. Oh, the things we had in common.

I heard him breathe in slowly as he turned to me, "May I?"

He was asking for my permission to sleep...?

I took yet another bite of my toast in an agonising manor and stared at him blankly, I didn't plan on speaking to him specifically as of yet, I needed at least a little control of what occurred around me. He was already retreating to the reserves of his room and it had been barely five minutes, oh the things I was capable of. Red-head and Barton looked at me expectantly and in return I raised an eyebrow, causing Stark to sigh and walk hesitantly into the bedroom. Barton narrowed his eyes slightly as he heard the bedroom doors close.

"Go easy on him, Amy, he's had a long night." Barton tried and I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

Tough shit, I've had a long seven year wait and I hated to admit it, but time turned me bitter. I finished my toast and made a scene of placing my plate in the sink, not caring to clean up after myself as I poured a glass of milk. The awkward atmosphere had returned until finally, Barton gave in and stood up. He began to walk towards me until I put down my cup to look at him straight-faced, daring him to take another step towards me.

"Amy. I'm sorry."

I choked on the simple air in my lungs in a humorous manor, before I smirked, "I wonder what you could possibly be sorry for."

"I deserve this." He looked away for a moment, nodding slightly, before lifting his eyes to meet mine, "Will you ever forgive me?"

I sneered.

He looked back to the woman sat on the sofa, avoiding my gaze, "I'm going to go catch a couple of hours sleep."

"Go ahead, I've slept already." She answered him, keeping her eyes on me.

Barton left as I put my glass into the sink and turned to face her as she bowed her head slightly in a greeting manor.

"Natasha."

"S.H.I.E.L.D?" I replied, I had planned for it to sound like a statement but it came out more of a question.

She nodded as I dropped myself into the armchair that Stark had previously sat in.

She turned on the TV and we both averted our attention to it, though I doubted either of us were actually watching it. I cursed silently at the fact she was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but all the best people were. I had to make sure I maintained innocent as long as she was around, I didn't need her reporting back to that one-eyed Director who hated my ass for declining his offer to join their happy club of happy spies.

Time went surprisingly fast as the next thing I knew, I was showered, changed, drove to an airport and boarding something that looked similar to a fighter jet... With a lot more room.

The Quinjet.

I hadn't spoken a word to Stark or Barton since our early encounter, but had managed to maintain a somewhat small conversation with Natasha, which agitated both Stark and Barton... Considering myself and Natasha were the least talkative out of us all.

I felt Natasha nudge me to catch my attention and I looked to her questioningly, "We're going back to the Helliecarrier."

I nodded in answer, my talk rate going down considerably. I had been on the Hellicarrier once before, it wasn't a very... Smooth visit, shall we say. The journey was silent above the noise of the engine, and I pretended to be distracted with the overhead window. It was awkward, as expected, and I was enjoying it far too much but something didn't feel right. I was the one with the secrets and yet I knew something was amiss.

There was another agent stood at the back of the Quinjet, he had apparently just gotten on for the ride to the Hellicarrier, though he looked slightly familiar. That seemed to be something that happened frequently recently. Everyone looked familiar.

"Have you told her yet?" I heard Barton say in a hushed tone, I kept my gaze focused elsewhere, silently urging them to speak.

"No." Came the reply from Stark, it was sharp and instant, obviously not wanting me to hear. I was not that stupid.

"Told me what?" I decided to tune in, but I aimed the question at Barton, satisfied with Stark's hurt face.

I've been gone from anything near to family for so long. So long that I had forgotten how to feel any hint of remorse for the actions I took against Stark. I wanted him to hurt, to burn inside, as bad as I had. I wanted him to know what it felt to be like without the presence of love, to watch as everyone you had once loved decided to play their game of lies until one day it just broke, broke beyond fixing. I wanted him to pay.

"Uh," Barton began, before panicking and looking at Stark.

I momentarily felt Natasha tense next to me, which sparked a small flame of curiosity in the pit of my stomach. Natasha was a spy, and a brilliant one at that, and for her to react to something... Well that was just darn interesting.

"Amelia," Stark finally spoke, forcing me to look at him.

He remained silent and I scowled, he was forcing me to talk to him in order for this stupid rendezvous to continue.

"What?" I almost spat.

He looked relieved for a second, before his face turned into legitimate melancholy. A blast to the past. He looked like a doctor who was informing someone that they had lost a fam-

Oh. Fuck. Oh. Fuck.

"Who?" I said into the crumbled silence.

But I already knew the answer, there was only one person left for me to lose, and she remained in Leeds. Where these three had been. For no reason whatsoever.

_Mother._

"No." I spoke again before anyone could speak or even move.

The Quinjet had landed inside a garage-like place in the Helicarrier, where I had been once before.

No.

If I had stayed...

She was the only person left that I gave a shit about.

The only person that compromised my emotions.

Not her, jesus, anybody but _her_. I wanted to tear something apart, she was the one thing that I spared a thought about - fair enough I may have been the most fucked up daughter to ever fuck up, but I came from her; she may not have been the woman she once was, but she was still the woman my father had married. My mother. And it was all my fault. This was all my fault.

I kicked the wall in uncontrollable anger and cried out in pain as I felt the bones in my foot bruise and nearly break against the impact. I repeated the action again. And again. The soaring pain gave me something to focus on, the displacement of my bones were a deep satisfaction to the gash I could feel in my chest.

I forced everything I had into powering my leg into the wall repeatedly. Again and _again_. Repeatedly, until Barton pulled me back and I struggled in his grip. I gave out a pathetic cry as I spun in his arms and punched him in his stomach, definitely causing damage to my hand, he let out a small wheeze in return but it didn't register in my mind as I clenched my fists, needing to project my anger. Or sorrow. Which was it?

She couldn't be dead. No. She was the only person I actually gave a shit about!

She may have acted like nothing to me, she may have been the worst mother I could even begin to think of but she was my mother and she always will be, and now... She's gone... If I had stayed...

"How?" I choked.

Stark was bent over, his hands on his knees and his head downwards as he gasped for air. He was struggling to breathe as if suffering being winded. The agent who was at the back was now trying to get Stark to breathe properly but I couldn't focus on anything. Everything was nothing, everyone was anyone and my mind was a no-man's land in the midst of chaos.

I looked at Barton who wouldn't look at me until I finally turned to Natasha. Her eyebrows were raised; that was the only emotion she seemed to portray.

"We don't-" She started, before sighing, "We don't know. All that was detectable was scorch marks on the wall... Magic scorch marks."

_Loki._

Call me quick to assume but I didn't exactly know any other crazy magic gods who enjoyed destruction.

I almost growled as I span and pushed my way past another agent, who tried to grab me and received a punch in return.

I began to thoroughly hate myself. I wasn't crying. Why wasn't I crying? For fucks sake, Amelia! Anything? Some sort of sad emotion? All I could feel was anger, and I was confused about who it was aimed at.

My mother? Myself?

I should have stayed. Why wasn't I feeling the sadness I felt when I lost my dad? Was I mad at Loki or just angered that I had allowed myself to think that he wouldn't? It was my fault.

I emerged into a gigantic room full of computers and people busy pushing their way past each other; and Director Angry - I mean Fury - stood in the middle. Natasha was by my side and she said something into her ear-pierce as Fury sighed. She must have said something to him as he allowed Natasha to lead me somewhere else all together, I was limping and my hand had started to bruise.


	11. Chapter 11

Everything around me was going faster than it should have, I could feel my skin radiating cold. I couldn't force myself to focus. My timing was out, as though I were drunk but I could see myself just sit there and do nothing but stare. My mother was gone, my father was gone. It was my fault.

I am going to kill that fucking god with my bare fucking hands.

I mentally shook myself, trying to regain any sense of mortality I could scavenge in the mental wreckage I had created. Amelia. _Stop_. Stop. It. I took a steady breath in. First of all, what more should I expect of Loki? Secondly, I had no-one to live for, so nothing else seemed to matter except what I had came to do.

Thirdly, what the fuck was I doing on the Helliecarrier? I could feel my anger drop, but I could also feel everything else drain from me.

And so it began.

I shut my mouth as all emotion drained into the black hole that I could feel within my chest with each breath that I managed to take, it was like a magnet to my emotions and I let out a small sigh.

This is what feeling empty felt like.

A black hole in the centre of your body, causing emotional exhaustion as it eats everything you may have once felt.

The next few hours blurred by; I had somehow gotten lost in my own head, I was too deep in thought to acknowledge the events occurring outside of my head. Everything was moving at twice the speed and the noise was blissful silence in which I found myself drowning in my own head. People were trying to talk to me, to spike any sort of reaction, but all I could do was stare, not at them, but through them, refusing to lift my eyes from where they were focused.

I jolted back into reality unwillingly as I realised that the table I was sat at now had seemingly more people sat around it. I was seated to one side and there were three empty chairs. I recognised one of the men instantly; Doctor Bruce Banner. I had attended a lecture he had held once, after his whole... Green guy mishap. Stark, Natasha and Barton were missing. They weren't missed.

There was the agent from the Quinjet, and a bulky blonde guy, who appeared to be watching me closely. I unintentionally raised an eyebrow and he mocked my action until I forced myself to look away and focus on the pain in my hand. It was bare-able, unlike my foot, which exploded in pan whenever something touched it - this caused me to sit rigidly still.

"Amelia," The unknown agent said as he looked at each individual awkwardly, "This is Doctor Banner and Steve Rogers," He motioned with his hands, but stayed seated in the hard, wooden chair, "My name is Agent Coulson... But, please, call me Phil."

I nodded a little, refusing to use my voice as if it were no longer there. I had slipped into an unintentional silence. My throat was burning with bile that I forced myself to swallow. I just needed to be alone, I needed to get out. Anywhere. I stood up and shot a questioning look at Coulson who turned a little red in embarrassment.

"Oh and uh," He stuttered, obviously not so experienced in the 'go careful with the mourner' department, "Follow me."

He then rushed out of the room, leaving everyone wide eyed and confused as I followed suit. After a couple of minutes of following him through empty corridors, which made me wander what the hell the time was, he took out a card and swiped it down the handle of the door and it gave out a little beep. He handed me the card and pushed open the door, showing a small bedroom.

"Is this silent treatment because we're all insufferable?" He laughed a little as I let myself fall onto the bed.

I looked at him properly for the first time, taking in his black suit... And black eye. Was that me? I honestly couldn't remember, it was like I had been watching myself through a webbed keyhole. My right fist was unintentionally furled into a ball due to the severe bruising and my foot was an avoidable subject. I did stupid things. The pain was just a reminder, and I needed the reminder.

"I can handle a little punch," He smiled, walking into the room a little, "I don't think little is the correct way to describe your punches though."

I shrugged and he nodded a little before leaving. I crawled under the covers and fell into fetal position, forcing myself into an intended sleep for once.

**Avengers P.O.V**

"At least she's staying," Stark sighed from his place at the table, staring at his coffee blankly, "She needs her family. And I'm all that she has left."

"Don't go so hard on yourself," Clint returned as he pulled on his jumper tiredly.

Coulson had just returned from having something to eat with Amelia, she didn't want to see anyone else. They were all surprised by how Coulson had reacted to the punch... Or rather hadn't reacted. Amelia had been mute since her whole freak out in the Quinjet and Fury was growing tired of waiting.

"Maybe I should go see her." Stark said as he finally took a drink of his going-cold coffee.

"Do you think that's the smartest of ideas?" Steve asked, more rhetorical than an actual question.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Stark snapped, "Her silence is deafening."

Stark needed Amy, and he silently hoped that she needed him also. At least she wasn't leaving, Stark was unsure that he could let her go this time, or what it would do to him if she left by force. He just needed to fix this and he had one foreseeable chance left. He had her within his reach for once, under his protection, and that made it easier to breathe for once.

"I think she just wants to be left alone." Coulson interrupted the argumentative atmosphere.

The others turned to stare at Coulson in shock, who seemed to be surprising everyone as of recently. He usually stayed out of personal affair, but was doing a lot in favour of Amelia; Banner silently deduced that Amelia reminded Coulson of someone. Someone dear to him.

Natasha received word through her earpiece to report to Fury immediately and so she pushed herself up and left without a word, causing Barton to tut at her unending loyalty. Barton was a loyal agent also, but he didn't exist to please Fury, he spoke his mind, whether or not it would cause him trouble.

Natasha knew what this was about; she had debriefed Fury whilst Amelia had been sleeping.

When Amelia had shown up, Natasha had also found herself unconscious on the floor, her memory blank and no matter how much she focused, she could never remember what she had been doing... And she wasn't stupid.

It was as though she didn't want to remember.

"Yes, I definitely lost perception of time, sir." She informed as she walked into the empty interrogation room Fury seemed to be in.

Fury was stood in the corner, his hands behind his back and standing straight, "That is a problem."

Natasha nodded in reply, knowing Fury had more to say... As always.

"This could mean one of many things. Either you suffered the side effects of Loki's... Magic... Or you saw something you were not supposed to see, and I have a profound feeling it's the latter."

There was a moment of silence before Fury turned to face her, "And the girl?"

"All I have learnt is that she does not have plans to forgive Stark, nor trust anyone in sight. She is very skilled, and if there's something she is hiding, there is no chance of her telling us intentionally. We tried to question her about events that led to this but she did not answer." Natasha explained, having spent a few hours alone with Amelia.

Amelia was likeable to an extent. Natasha was intrigued.

"Oh, that may cause problems. Agent Romanoff, I assign to you the job of getting on the girl's good side. If she has one." Fury looked at his watch expectantly, "We still know nothing of Loki's motives, or how she ended up in the mix. She knows something and we will find out what it is. We don't need no crazy-ass god with a vengeance stalking the streets again. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

**Amelia's P.O.V**

Coulson was the only person I would intentionally interact with, though Natasha had tried on a couple of occasions. She was almost trying too hard, but in complete honesty, I could not be bothered with any of them. This part of the plan didn't require sociality, it required having access to private rooms upon ship.

Which a certain Phil Coulson had.

I walked into Banners lab, trying to not become distracted with everything that surrounded me, the board of equations or the scattered pieces of paper. He was hunched over a laptop, typing immaculately fast and occasionally glancing into a microscope he had to one side.

Coulson had told me that to bribe The Avengers to live on board for a month they were each given something of their interest whilst the Stark Tower, where they were staying, was undergoing repairs.

I leant over Banner's shoulder to glance at the laptop when an idea sprung to mind.

"Boo." I whisper-shouted.

He didn't even jump.

"Damn." I sulked.

"And so she speaks," He laughed, turning to face me, "Stark tried something similar the first time I met him."

My face must have projected something along the lines of 'I do not give a shit' for he dropped the subject almost instantly, "I've met you before."

"Indeed," I returned, studying him.

How could this man turn into green brilliance?

Rogers walked in inconveniently, nodding at me in greeting as he addressed Banner, "You're wanted in Starks lab,"

Banner jokingly waved at me as he exited, "Until next time."

He was too calm.

"Amelia," Coulson sighed in relief as he walked through, he must have been looking for me and I hadn't left my room in a couple of previous days hence the confusion, "I have been instructed to introduce you to Thor and show you footage from the events of New York."

"You mean Loki?" I asked all too fast, forcing my eyebrows to rise in 'worry' so that I did not seem too suspicious. Everything I did could threaten my place on the ship.

"May I?" Rogers asked formally.

Coulson rolled his eyes at the Captain, "No, never, of course not."

Rogers looked hurt for a moment before I elbowed him and said, "Sarcasm."

"Ah." He said, shooting me with a thankful look.

I followed Coulson into a private room and within minutes, I was staring at a large screen which showed CCTV footage. I watched silently as Loki stole the tesseract, killing people in the process. I barely even twitched as I watched the swiftness the god contained with each life he took, it was almost like an art. Rogers stiffened as he watched, fists clenching the sides of his seat. Patriotism.

I was fascinated by the insanity that was clearly visible within Loki's eyes... Which were fully blue, almost as blue as the tesseract.

Thor had shaken my hand, my hand was tiny compared to his. He was a fucking giant. I had introduced myself in small talk and learnt he had been back in Asgard, dealing with family business. That seemed to be a god trait.

"It looks as though he's been touched by the tesseract." I blurted out as the building on the CCTV collapsed in on itself due to the large explosion.

"How so?" Thor was instant to reply, desperate for any answer to Loki's actions.

Coulson and Rogers shared a distasteful look. My bad.

"Bring up footage from Loki when he found Thor in New Mexico, at the crash land sight of Thor's... Hammer." I tried, Coulson sighed and started typing into a keyboard.

"Mjölnir." Thor informed.

Miyln-what?

"Here," Coulson said as a new imagine appeared on the screen.

It was difficult to see Loki's eyes clearly and so I paused it on his face, zoomed in and filtered the image, causing Rogers to stare wide-mouthed.

"You are most definitely a Stark." Thor nodded, causing me to sigh in frustration.

For just once, I'd like to be Amelia.

Coulson just shook his head and Thor shut his mouth, though confused.

I had slipped Coulson's access card from his trouser pocket as we had been walking here, he had been talking to Rogers and I ceased the opportunity. He was far too happy to participate in conversation with Rogers that it was almost funny, the card now sat in my back pocket awaiting its usage.

"There." I pointed at Loki's eyes, which appeared to be green.

I pulled up an image from the footage of New York that I had previously watched, putting them side-by-side.

"The post-apocalypse Loki has green eyes, quite clearly, whereas world-dominating Loki has insanely blue eyes, suggesting that-"

"That Loki was influenced by the tesseract." A stern voice said from behind me, I turned my head to see Fury leaning against the door frame.

Fury continued, "How is it that you deduce this within a matter of minutes and a whole team of agents didn't even realise this? How about you, Thor?"

Thor's gaze fell to the floor in shame and I could read hurt on his face, "You, Amelia Stark, are something. I did not even realise this for myself and I am highly ashamed at my lack of observance."

I felt the need to thank Thor and his Shakespearean way of speech, but withheld as Fury's eye narrowed at me, as if looking through me and reading each of my secrets that I contained behind the safety of my skull. Talk about violation.

I just shrugged, "I'm observant."

In reality, I had been looking for something out of the ordinary with his eyes, considering how bright they had been that night in the car park. I pressed play on the New York footage and we all turned silent to watch it. Everyone else within the room had either angry or tensed faces, except Thor, who just stared.

I, on the other hand, stared unblinkingly at Loki on the screen. The footage was shaky, but Loki was very visible and I had to hide the amusement in my eyes as Loki threw my uncle out of the window, the footage was from JARVIS's software. I couldn't help but snort, resulting in everyone turning to stare at me, mouths open. Except Fury. I coughed awkwardly.

Everyone but Thor had left the small room where we had gathered and I could tell he had questions for me.

He finally took the seat next to mine as I pulled my legs to my chest. "I am almost out of hope for my brother."

I looked at Thor as an idea sprung to mind an I studied his vulnerable state, "Tell me about yourself and Loki. I am new to this, yet I find it intriguing."

Something in Thor's eyes lit up and he motioned for us to move to the high table.

I sat opposite him as he began to speak, "As you know, I am not of this realm, but I have select friends here who I wish to maintain. You must think me a fool."

"And why is that?"

"Everything from my behaviour to my clothing is reprehensible by Earth standards." Thor shrugged.

I had discovered something unintentionally, Thor's weakness was Loki. It was also obvious that despite his naive confidence, he was not stupid, he knew we all viewed him as overly different.

"You need not impress, you're a fucking god." I continued with a smile.

"Aye," Thor sighed, "Even in my homeland I am viewed as superior."

I punched his shoulder jokingly across the table, "Anyone could wear that armour and become spontaneously superior."

"I highly doubt that, this armour is heavy." He scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes, "Now who is acting superior."

His jaw dropped open slightly and he stood up, I watched carefully as he heaved part of his armour above his head whilst unstrapping parts. He dropped it all into a massive pile on the table and I just stared.

"That's a shit ton of armour."

"What is meant by that?" He asked, looking smaller in his lack of armour.

"That's a lot of armour." I translated, prodding the solid chest plate with my finger.

"Put it on then." He demanded, laughing deeply as I almost fell from my chair backwards.

"I don't even know how." I laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.

"That's no good." He grinned as he picked up all the smaller plates, circling the table.

I froze as he touched my arm, but forced myself to raise it anyway. He put on the smaller plates of armour and I laughed a little. They weren't heavy at all. I stopped smiling as I saw his smile... The plates weren't the heavy parts. I watched him grab the body armour with both hands and he held it above my head, making me raise my arms like a child. I scowled at him, he winked in reply.

As soon as he let go of the armour and my arms slid through, I let out a small cry and gripped the table at the weight. And then I fell backwards onto the floor, "Thor, I don't think I like you."

"Ah, you'll love me eventually." He laughed, offering me his hand.

I took it and he hauled me up, grabbing onto the armour to lift it above my head.

"Is that what you tell all the girls?" I laughed, sitting down in defeat.

He decided to leave his armour off as he joined me once again. He laughed also, a deep belly laugh that caused me to laugh.

"Amelia Stark," He offered me his hand, "I imagine you and I will be great friends."

I hesitated before taking his hand in mine and shaking. Oh god, I was playing these people for fools. It was almost too easy. I should have felt guilt, remorse, anything at the fact that these people had been nothing but nice to me and in return, I was working with the enemy. It was almost exhilarating.

_No attachments._

"Thor," I started, a smile forming on my face, "Let's go get drunk."

"I most definitely like you," He laughed as we exited the room.

Who would have known that Thor had a mini bar in his room? Thor, of all people? That blondey was one bag of surprise after another. Half of the bar was taken up by typical Ale, the other half was your average alcohol, from spirits to average beer. I took the place behind the bar.

"And what can I get for you?" I rolled my eyes and poured myself a drink.

Thor had his drink and I had mine, he sat with his back to the wall on the floor and I sat cross-legged on his bed. It was a good thing I could handle my drink, only taking tiny sips of the weird ale to match his large gulps. I wouldn't be very professional if I were drunk.

"My brother isn't the only magic individual in the universe," Thor spoke, setting his cup on the floor beside him, his cheeks were burning slightly due to the alcohol and I could already tell he was tipsy and in the regret stage of alcohol consumption.

"So it may not have been him to..." He trailed off.

"To kill my mother." I finished for him, seeing him wince a little. "I know, but who else would want to target me?"

Thor shrugged, picking up a bottle of ale, the cup not catering to his large consumption needs. I couldn't bring myself to think about the word 'mother' without feeling profoundly sick to the stomach, I wanted to ignore it. Ignore it until it went away, which was due to happen eventually. Stark would deal with everything per her death.

"Have you met him, Amelia Stark?" He asked.

"Briefly," I lied.

"And you are still alive. He left you in safe hands. Do you think he would do that after going to the extent of killing someone dear to you? I am sorry, Amelia, it just does not make sense to me." He let out.

"Your alcohol increases your intelligence, my friend." I chuckled, toasting my cup in the air jokingly.

He smiled in return, his face calm, "It gives me reason to speak my mind."

I nodded in return, taking into consideration his words. It most definitely did not make sense. What use what Loki get out of killing her? I could pretend that he was a raging psychopath who needed no reason to slaughter my mother, but something about that sentence didn't sit right. I didn't want to believe that it was he who committed the act, but who else? I just felt as though he wasn't as crazy and evil as he let on... He was a sly fox, every line he drew followed a reason with planned consequences and this random murder didn't fit in anywhere.

After hours of Thor's chugging and my puny sips, I was tipsy... Thor was unconscious. I had barely had two cup full's of the ale, whereas Thor had a line of empty bottles to accompany his unconscious self. I looked at his sleeping state and smiled a little. He snored really loud. I had finished my line of questions and learned a great deal about Loki, evening the tables a little more.

My plan had worked; get Thor drunk and interrogate. It wasn't part of the plan that Loki had created, but if he were allowed to make large alterations without consulting me then god help me I was going to do the same, especially if I were to continue with the plan. I wanted more information and I had gotten it.

He wasn't Thor's actual brother, despite Thor refusing to say otherwise. They had grown up side by side, that was enough for Thor. Loki Laufeyson, son of Laufey, Jötun at heart. Frost Giant. There was a major lack of 'giant' involved, which Thor chose not to speak of. Loki had invaded New York, Thor thought deeply of the tesseract influence, and had been captured to return to Asgard to face punishment from the All-Father - Thor's father -but he escaped from imprisonment. With help from a 'Midgardian'.

Thor held a lot of guilt concerning none of it could have quite possibly been his fault, if anything, their father sounded like one son of a bitch.

Before I left, I heaved Thor onto the bed with a lot of trouble, despite the pain in my hand and my foot. Thor would be thankful, awaking on the floor was not something you ever wanted to face. I had waited in Thor's room for a while, waiting for the ship to sleep, drinking with Thor was my excuse to be on a different level of the ship as my card registered which floor I was on. I left it on Thor's floor.

I quietly shut his room door, and made my way to the classified part of the ship. It was almost 4am, and so I didn't have long before the ship started to wake, two hours at most. But before all of that, I had to go to Starks room, per Loki's instructions.

I pushed open the door to Stark's room and peered inside, unsurprised to see Stark in a deep sleep under his thick covers. I tip toed to the cupboard and pulled it open, silently cursing when it didn't contain the small USB-like thing that Loki had told me would be needed. I pulled open a few drawers and winced as one of them made a loud dragging noise, and then sighing when I couldn't find anything. Stark wasn't as stupid as to hide something useful in plain sight... I pushed my hand up flat beneath the drawer, smirking when I felt a small rectangle shape had been stuck to the underside of the drawer with tape.

I pulled it from the underside, freezing exactly where I stood as Stark murmured something and stirred. I whipped my head to look at him through the dim lighting and prayed that those eyelids would not open. He turned onto his stomach and I pocketed the USB, making my silent escape. I continued my journey further into the ship, avoiding as many people as possible. Luckily, the majority of the ship was in deep slumber. I crept down the stair case that led into another hallway, and I counted the doors, walking to the end. Door number fourteen.

I swiped Coulson's card and the door opened, I was thankful it didn't let out a small beep as the other rooms had. It wouldn't have woken anyone, but better safe than sorry. Noises in a silent and sneaking atmosphere knocked my concentration. And heart rate.

Loki had only instructed me to get into the room, and that I would know what to do as once I got there. I was expecting cabinets of files... Even weapons of some sort. But the room I had emerged into was the engine room of the ship, and due to the high tech of the ship, it wasn't a manual room where people had to work constantly. What could I possibly do from here?

My eyes scanned over each of the machines before resting on the motherboard of hardware in glass casing. It was attached to a computer and everything clicked. Loki wanted me to disable the ship.

I would be lying if I said I didn't hesitate before I started to type into the computer at the end of the room, which had a small hum coming from many of the pipes. It was a very warm room and there were lights that lined the walls, beeping occasionally on their own accord. The cliche 'access denied, please enter password.' appeared on the screen and I automatically connected the USB, which started to do all the work for me. All that was left for me to do was to hit 'enter' and remove the USB.

Loki had informed me that the new advances of the 'damn stupid spy agency' meaned that the Helliecarrier's movement was un-teleportational - if that is even a word - meaning that the Helliecarrier's movement had to be non-existent for him to access any part of it. There were many firewalls to the Helliecarrier that I was now breaking down. I hit enter and removed the USB, the sudden jolt of the ship caused me to grab onto the wall in order to remain upright and not sprawled across the floor.

Why would Stark have a USB that could disable the ship? I could only be thankful at this moment in time for it definitely came in handy.

"It's about time." Loki smirked from the doorway.


	12. Chapter 12

Loki held out his arm as he stepped forward, I took it and closed my eyes feeling myself being displaced - intentionally for once.

We were _now_ in the files part of the ship.

"You're hurt." Loki said as walked towards the cabinets upon cabinets.

Mr Observant was walking along, flicking through many drawers as I limped behind with no indication of what he was looking for.

"Surprise," I conceded, leaning against the wall to take the weight from my bruised foot. Coulson had told me to get it looked at, but I had been busy doing nothing. As per usual.

"You were instructed to get into a room, not run rampage." He muttered.

"Sorry boss." I mocked, causing him to glance at me agitatedly. "I got sidetracked."

He sighed, pulling out some files, he waved his hand over the top of the pile and it disappeared. I had no idea what those files contained. Typical. I had a perfectly legitimate reason for becoming side-tracked.

"My mother is dead," I informed him flatly, he finally turned to look at me inquisitively, "Was it you?"

He studied me intently before replying, "No."

And just like that he was flicking through more files.

"Is that all you have to say?" I pushed further.

"If I'm honest," He started with a tilt of his head, "I thought you would be more accusing as of now. There was, of course, a magic signature at the scene."

I stared at him, speechless. How did he know that? Had he known before me? Why hadn't he told- this was Loki, of course he wouldn't. I was a fool to assume anything considering Loki.

"Was there not?" He pushed, putting down the files.

"Thor-"

He stiffened, "You talked with Thor?"

"-reminded me that you are not the only person with magic in the universe-"

"You talked to Thor about me?" He interrupted again.

"-and you had no specific reason to target me personally-"

"Amelia!" He boomed.

"Jesus Christ, man." I jumped at his sudden raise of voice, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued to stare at me, "Yes."

"Why?"

"I deserve to know about my partner in crime, you know my whole fucking life story, don't get pissy with me." I quipped, looking down at the bruising on my hand.

"So... You researched me?" He resumed and I shrugged. "Okay."

His face softened and he closed the file drawer, and once again he offered me his arm. "It's about time we make me and my gracefulness known, don't you think?"

I had, being the intelligent individual that I was, disabled the ship. Or Helliecarrier. Same thing. It gave me a small sense of pride. It remained frozen in midair, moving nowhere for the time being. The engines kept the futuristically advanced ship aired, I wasn't so stupid as to turn off the propellers... As fun as it may have been to fall from the sky, I hadn't slept in two days and suicide missions weren't really my doing.

Loki had unexpectedly teleported me to the main room upon the ship, where a handful of agents remained despite the early hours of dreadful happenings. As expected, the atmosphere was chaotic as everyone tried to fix the solution of their broken aircraft. I had to hide my smile as a few screams sounded at our sudden appearance and a couple of the more naive agents drew guns. I was stood behind Loki, out of gun line and partly hidden, remaining my usual self. I had to keep the idiots thinking I was not a part of this.

"Hello, again." Loki drawled mockingly at a certain Director.

"Oh hell no," Fury began, taking his place closer to Loki than any of the other agents, "Someone get me The Avengers."

We had no specific reason for a delayed visit to the main part of the ship, but there was always reasoning within Loki's decisions. With a flick of his wrists, the doors on either side of the rooms slammed shut and the computers flatlined... And the agents' guns morphed into immaculate objects.

I frowned at the immaculate objects before choking back a laugh at the small plastic Nick Fury figurines they each held in their hands. I was oblivious to the existence of such an atrocity. Half of the agents looked dumbfounded with the new object they each held in their hands, the other half looked slightly humoured... And the less interesting of people dropped the objects to the floor. This was the first time I had seen Fury look something other than his usual 'Do I look like I give a fuck?' persona, his jaw was unhinged and his eye was looking extra deathly today. It was most amusing.

Loki bowed slowly, that smirk still upon his face, "A gift."

There was a loud sound of metal-against-metal and a horrible crash as Thor's hammer annihilated the door to my left, causing my heart to jump slightly followed by the automatic straightening of my back. The hammer was surprisingly followed by Thor, Stark and Natasha.

This only powered Loki's confidence as he welcomed them mockingly with open arms, "It's a pleasure to be in your company once again, Avengers."

"Loki!" Thor boomed in that deep, thundering voice he controlled, "Cease this nonsense!"

Of course Thor would be the first to react; he always was. And in a painfully annoying manor. He couldn't drop the brother concept, no matter how many times Loki beat him down and denied his words, Thor was Thor - he cared for his brother. The idiot.

"But where is the fun in that?" Loki returned, literally emitting cockiness.

His attitude was different when it came to Thor, it was harsh, blunt... Emotionless. The way I spoke to Stark. I was beginning to believe the negative traits I had in common with Loki were no longer a good thing, considering that Loki could easily be passed as borderline insane.

"Let her go," Thor motioned to me with the hammer, his beaming blue eyes wide with worry, "This does not concern her."

"Oh? But it does." He hissed in reply, becoming side-tracked with Thor; no matter how hard Loki tried, it seemed, he could never maintain the civility. And now it seemed he had plans to tell the others that this whole ordeal concerned me.

I froze.

I really, really wished that Loki would inform me of his plan of attack before he attacked.

Did he plan on revealing me now?

Stark seemed to freeze also, possibilities of my involvement causing havoc behind his eyes, and he still wore the remorse on his face.

He really needed a new look.

"Who else is there to seek revenge with me but someone as worthy as Miss Amelia Stark?" He aimed at Stark, pushing his buttons.

In return, Stark's head snapped in my direction, begging me to tell him otherwise, to assure his poor thoughts that I was not to be considered an enemy. At least Loki considered me worthy, that seemingly boosted my confidence as I squared my shoulders and allowed my facade to drop from innocent to my usual annoyed look.

"Hand over the girl so that we can kick your god-ass back to wherever the hell it belongs." Fury demanded, having recovered from the rare embarrassment.

He had retreated to his control area, his pistol raised at Loki. I doubted a bullet would affect Loki, he could most likely dodge a bullet within a meter range. Or incinerate it.

"Give us Amelia," Stark growled, stepping forwards with his hand raised; he was wearing the Iron Man hand with the repulser weapon on the palm, the sound of it arming filled the moment of silence.

His threats humoured me.

"No." Loki smiled as if refusing to give a sibling a toy. The threats humoured him too.

I hoped I was more than just a toy, but I couldn't help but remember my recurring thoughts.

_Just a pawn in another game of power._

"Give-"

"I am not a fucking object!" I exploded at both parties, taking a step to the side.

Loki's face returned to its unreadable manual setting and he maintained staring, whereas Stark seemed angered at the world once again. He was angered highly by Loki, pushed over the edge by the mere involvement of me. He lacked sleep, he lacked calmness as of the moment.

"She's just a child." Stark snapped in Loki's direction.

Things weren't going too well in favour of Stark. Loki smirked in victory as Fury pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat.

"Tony!" Clint cursed, shooting Stark a look.

Loki turned to me, his hand extended.

"Amelia Stark," Thor tried, walking forward and his hammer pointing as he talked, not in threat, but more to express a point, "Do not listen to such words. Do not allow my brother to poison your intentions."

Loki's laugh filled the air like a simple melody as everyone dared to do nothing more but stare. Loki knew he had already won the ordeal at the simple stupidity of Stark.

"I need not poison her intentions." Loki turned to look at me, turning the palm of his outstretched arm upwards gracefully.

"I'd like to remind you all that I am still within the room, and so I'd highly appreciate it if you would stop fucking fighting over me like useless meat between two predators," I growled, marching towards Loki, but before I made the painfully amusing touch to Loki's hand, I turned to Stark, "If I am a child, then what does this make you? You are nothing to me, we may be related by blood but you will never be my family. I will always make better decisions, I will always make far wiser choices, I am not a lowlife asshole who tries to clear useless guilt with good deeds," I paused, "Your slate will never be clean, Stark. You repel me."

I put my hand into Loki's, my jaw clenching. The faces of everyone within the room turned into betrayed defeat but I couldn't even try to care. They now knew I was not part of their escapade, it wasn't difficult to deduce. As soon as our skin made contact, we were back on the -space-ship; the whole teleporting ordeal didn't seem to phase me as the last couple of seconds blazed through my mind.

Stark looked as though crying was an option, Barton just stared and Thor... Well Thor looked I had just shoved a dagger into the depths of his stomach, turning the handle as I did so... Oops.

A few moments passed agonisingly slow, Loki was studying me silently and I wondered for just a second what passed through his mind on a regularity. Murder? Genocide? Rainbows and butterflies?

I glanced down at my hand, jumping back when I realised my fingers were still entwined with his. I coughed awkwardly, before running a hand through my hair and tiredly rubbing my face.

Loki's hands were unbelievably soft. That was just weird.

"Loki, next time you plan on largely alternating something would you inform me, or I'm going to accidentally cut your head from your body with a spoon." I pulled out the kitchen chair and sank into it, refusing to lift my eyes.

I was overwhelmed with emptiness and I wanted to do nothing more than to fucking mourn but I couldn't force myself to feel. Loki's change of plan had also forced me to break out in an angered rage. The joy of the situation.

"No, I am not the only individual with magic." Loki continued as he sat down opposite me, bringing up our conversation from the Hellicarrier, "I am not responsible for your mothers death."

I sighed, "I do not care, anymore. You were right, no attachments. Anyhow," I looked up at him and ignored his surprised face, "I have questions."

I was in the denial stage of death, but I wasn't dealing with it as I should... Do I actually do anything the way I should?

"You always have questions."

"I can't help being a naive human," I scowled, before turning my attention to his now-green eyes, "What is the concept with your eyes?"

He frowned at me, "I do not understand..."

"They're green."

He sighed irritably, "They have always been green."

"No, no they have not." I blinked at him inquisitively "The day after you willingly brought me here, they were slightly more blue. And your green eyes are too vibrant to be your actual eye colour... Right?"

Unless his natural eye colour was just that amazing shade of green.

I was finally bringing up the absurd situation with his eyes, the way they were green when we had first met, only to grow more blue as he became outraged. Who's eyes changed colour to that extent? It was a pointless subject but it had been drilling a deep hole in my mind.

"Amelia, if this is some sort of-"

"Loki, it's your fucking eyes, what petty fun would I get from lying?" I interrupted, assuring him that I wasn't bringing up a crazy lie to gain something selfishly.

"I have green eyes," He sat back in his seat, defeated, "I know not of what nonsense you speak."

I sat for a moment and pondered on what to say without mentioning the word 'trust', but it somehow seemed unavoidable, so I avoided it.

"They made me watch New York footage, and apart from your impeccable knife-throwing skills, your eyes were a different colour to that of New Mexico. Yes, I watched you on CCTV per se, but you didn't look too terrible. Before you so-happily murder me, I just complimented you, you're welcome."

He ignored my incoherence and instead tilted his head in curiosity, "What colour were they during New York?"

Tesseract blue.

Was it wise to inform Loki that his intentions may have been pushed forward by the will of the tesseract?

No, no it was not.

There was a possibility that he knew of this already, as there were many possibilities concerning how he came to be once he fell from the Bifrost.

I stood up and pushed in my chair slowly, "It's been a long day, I haven't slept, meaning my day was twice as long, I think it's best if I go sleep..."

He narrowed his eyes as he stood up, "Allow me to accompany you."

"No, nope, absolutely not," I pushed out, trying ignore his glare, "I can get there just fine... On my own."

"What colour were my eyes?" He asked again, stepping forward as I slid out the door.

I was not going to be the cause of his outrage if I tell him that he may or may not have been affected by the tesseract... That was crazy talk. Pure madness. Completely avoidable. The door automatically shut as I stood out of its way and turned to walk back to my room. I was not angering him... We had completed a stage of our plan and I remained in one piece. Today was successful; it would be a pleasure for it to remain that way.

I'd be pissed off too if I found out I tried to rule the world under somebody else's compulsion. And failed. I'd like to think that my sadistic mindset was of my own accord. Which it usually was.

I navigated myself into the bedroom, my liability was agitating. I cursed myself as I pulled my shirt over my head; how stupid was I to announce to the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D that I was now an enemy? More than that; that I was working with their most wanted? I threw my shirt to the corner of the room in an angered manor, it was a shirt given to me by S.H.I.E.L.D, the less I see of it the better. S.H.I.E.L.D were insufferable, one hundred percent bullshit.

"It's only fabric." The prince spoke from behind me and I punched the wall in frustration at his sudden appearance, in return he chuckled.

My hand was still slightly bruised and so it hurt more than it should have, but I pinpointed my attention towards the pain, giving me a distraction. I turned to face him with a winning death glare before realising all I seemed to be wearing were skinny jeans and a bra.

I am not embarrassed. My body is fine and I am not embarrassed.

Maybe a little bit.

"Does my presence unease you?" He boasted, laying on his side on my bed in a thought provoking manor.

One leg was bent and his head was on his hand... Reminding me awfully too much of the whole 'Draw me like one of your French girls.' innuendos.

I had a sudden confidence boost and dropped my arms from my chest, "No, of course not."

I stared at him as he stared back, the stupid grin upon his face.

I sighed and grabbed a random t-shirt, pulling it over my head, "Yeah, a little bit. I'd also appreciate it if you removed yourself from the area in which I shall by sleeping. And I still need to change my bottoms, so.."

He raised an eyebrow and pushed himself to sit on the edge of my bed, turning his head away from my direction.

I shook my head at him before tugging down my trousers to pull on a pair of pyjama shorts, taking no notices to the random scars that painted my legs and thighs due to the many fights I had both lost and won. I had a few on my stomach and chest also... But most were at fault of one person in particular, my last mission with Barton wasn't all that fun, as successful as it may have been.

"Blue." I informed as I climbed under the sheets, ignoring the fact he was on the bottom of my bed, "Like the tesseract."

Part of me wanted to hide the filthy scars, another part argued the pointlessness of the thought.

The lights dimmed on queue and I shut my eyes, trying to clear my mind of any and all thoughts.

"Thank you." He returned, though he remained at the bottom of my bed, unmoving.

I drifted to sleep gradually, feeling more comforted than I had in a long, long time, my tired self not even bothering to deflect the absurdity of the idea.

Dreams. Dreams were not a regularity with me, and nightmares were most definitely not. The last time I had a thorough nightmare... I had been illiterate and thirteen.

I could see it, I could see it all. Of course I would see this, but the obscurity felt forced upon my mind, as if planted there. This was not my dream. I tried to force my eyes shut as my mother was thrown against the wall, the sound of broken glass and broken bone was muffled against her scream. The scream forced my heart into my throat and I felt fear as a tall shadow loomed over her.

I was seeing things from the killers perspective.

There was a sick dark green glow that scorched down on my mother and I couldn't bare to look but my eyes were forced there, I was screaming and thrashing but I could not move.

In the last couple of moments, the view of the person I seemed to be inhibiting turned and I stopped breathing, I looked at the reflection in the mirror, anger flaring at the blonde woman staring back. She smiled a crooked smile before punching the mirror, her last glance bore through me as if she knew I was forced upon the scene.

I bolted upwards, my hair sticking to my face in sweat. My heart was thumping in my ears and I refused to open my eyes, I never wanted to open my eyes. I could hear a soft voice to the right of me repeating words that I could not decipher and I tried to focus on it, the shaking of my limbs had started to decrease slightly.

I felt his two arms wrap around me and pull me into his chest, the smell of the familiar leather calming my racing mind. I allowed myself to lay back down with this person, caring not of my appearance. I slowly opened my eyes, grimacing slightly to see that I was half laid on Loki, my head on his chest and his mouth against my ear, repeatedly whispering soothingly. Had I entered an alternate universe?

It had gone silent for a second, and I allowed my thoughts to wander finally. I never had nightmares to that extent, that felt more like a memory than a nightmare. It felt forced on my mind, my ears tingling if they had been touched my magic. Oh.

"Loki," I murmured into his leather, not wanting to pull away, "I do not have nightmares. I am not saying this to better myself; it is a simple fact known to me."

"Mhm." He hummed softly, maintaining the calmness.

"My mind feels violated. I can feel that stupid tingling feeling again." I continued, the silence allowing me too much time to think, "She was blonde. She also wore green, similar to yours but in a dress-like fashion."

Beneath me, Loki's stiffened but he remained silent.

"Green magic also."

"You have said enough," Loki sighed, "Are you well?"

I pushed myself up from him, focusing on his sharp features through the darkness, I could do nothing more but stare, a faint green being reflected from his eyes. My heart was beating fast and it was possible that it was not down to the dream. My face was a simple 30cm from his and I had to fight the urge to lay on him once again.

"You wouldn't understand," I let out in a whisper, climbing from the bed via the bottom, doing my best to avoid Loki.

But he wouldn't understand, would he? Loki had not miraculously changed in the past hour, he would only want the facts to mock me, I was not okay with that at the moment in time.

"Quick to assume." Loki replied, though I couldn't see him through the darkness, I could hear him stand up.

"No, Loki," I snapped, walking further away from him.

He wouldn't understand; he was of such a superiority that mere facts of life and simple achievements meant nothing to him. He could brush off defeat and even try to conquer worlds. And I?

I was human. I couldn't even see in this darkness.

"I'm not quick to assume, I'm quick to know where my time would be wasted divulging into things that mean nothing to you." I could not see his whereabouts within the room, all I could now see was darkness, no light was on.

"I asked if you were well." He reasoned, his voice floating through the room in that annoying and ways-right manor.

"I am not fucking 'well', happy?!" I almost yelled in frustration into the darkness, keeping my ground.

The maybe not-nightmare had shaken me up, both my chest and shoulders were shaking with each breath that entered my lungs. Those images were forced into my mind and I was fairly pissed off about it.

"What is it that troubles you?"

The whole concept of speaking into the darkness made me feel unsurprisingly stupid as he most likely knew of my exact coordinates in the room. God damn god advantages. My mind flashed to the flaring emotions I felt during the dream... It made me feel sick. Those emotions were literally forced upon me, without a say or reason. I was vulnerable to stupid fucking magic.

"I felt anger." I started.

"We all feel anger." He replied.

"No. It was uncontrollable. I was screaming. I then felt.." I stopped to take a calming breath before continuing, "I felt fear, Loki. I have not felt fear like that in a long time."

My voice cracked a little, "I was scared."

"It's okay-"

"No!" I interrupted, almost choking on my words, "It's not okay. I'm vulnerable - To such bullshit! She specifically made me feel fear, she forced it upon me... She showed how human I am. I wasn't scared to begin with; but I felt that stupid fucking fear! It wasn't mine to feel, it was-"

Oh god. I coughed to clear my clenching throat, "I could feel my mother's fear."

I was becoming very frustrated at myself.

"It will be fine."

I stepped forward, unknowing of where he was but stepping towards his voice, "You can't tell me that it will be fine, you're a fucking god. I'm human. A stupid, defenceless, fucking human." I took another angered step forwards, "And you may hate yourself, Loki, you may hate the person you are; but at least being you has it's perks."

"Perks?" He laughed bitterly.

"Don't you dare try to act like that," I spat, hearing him move in the darkness, "Yes, perks. What will I ever be compared to you? You know," I sighed, "You know you are much more... Useful in life. You are literally immortal. You're wrote down in human mythology - because of who you are! Things may be okay for you, one day, because you're lucky enough to live for that long! You don't have to spend your days confined to an orbiting ball of humanity. You may hate yourself, but it's for all the wrong reasons. No, I can't help being who I am, but I'm allowed to hate myself for it, because humans are a disease." I stopped for a moment to take in another breath, slower this time, "A disease with no cure, and I'm just another major dysfunction."

"My dear Amelia," I heard his voice from directly in front of me, realising how close he was yet not moving myself further away, his tone had changed into something of comfort and calm, "You are highly infectious."

It was as if time stopped.

Time stopped and I was stuck in the centre. I found myself stepping forwards into his arms, his stupid, perfect smell filling my scent once again. I was on my tip toes yet he embraced tightly with his head at the side of mine. My heart was pumping adrenaline through my veins and I realised I needed this. He held me tight and I held onto him as though he were keeping me from falling somewhere. It grew easier to breathe, and my shoulders were no longer shaking.

"I do hate you." I stated into his ear.

"If it's any constellation," He said as I pulled away, humour in his tone once again, "You are my favourite human."

I could hear the wink in his voice. I laughed as I looked up at him, the outline of his features were visible, I could see a slight humour play with his features. Loki, god of mischief, was comforting me? That's not something that's supposed to happen.

"A human aided me in my escape from Asgard," He reflected, his hand was on the side of my face and his thumb drew circles on my cheek, keeping me collected, "I did not ask for help, I had my suspicions concerning the person at fault, but now they are confirmed. That human was under command of another. She is a petty woman, volatile and obsessed. She is of Asgard."

"Amora?" I asked almost instantly, recalling the stories that Thor had told me in his drunken state of mind.

Amora was not to be messed with on any degree, she was as powerful as Loki... And deeply in love with him. And Thor. His hand dropped from my cheek and my skin tingled where his touch had been.

"Yes. I trained with her, I then trained her. We are of the same magic... As it is a clone of my magic she controls. I gave it to her, long ago." As he spoke I heard his breathing hitch, I wanted to reach out to him as he had done with me, "She is obsessed with me. Amora will see you a competition to defeat."

I couldn't help but snort at the last part, he got the 'petty' part right. I was competition... Against her - For Loki. It was extremely laughable.

"What is it that humours you?"

"Oh, nothing. Just... Competition? Really? I mean c'mon. I'm guessing she's also a god..." Oh. "She'll tear me into pieces with her bare hands."

"I will not allow it," Loki answered instantly, "You are competition in her eyes, because she does not stand a breath of a chance of ever meaning something to me."

And I did?

Ha no, what... Shit.

Tonight was a general series of crazy happenings. I decided to speak no more, I did not want to touch the subject in fear of hitting a well buried nerve within him.

"No, I think you should sleep," He ushered me towards the bed that was only a step away, "We have things to do tomorrow."

"Will you stay?" I asked quietly once I had climbed beneath the sheets.

I had embarrassed myself tonight, why refrain from doing it again? I felt the bed go down slightly as he sat beside where I lay. I allowed his hand to rest on my side as I once again tried to sleep; and I did not care. I did not care that a fondness for Loki had started to spout deep inside my chest, I did not care that my heart had missed a beat when his hand had first touched my side.

I will care tomorrow, and it may result in me repeatedly punching myself in the face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Loki's P.O.V**

The hours had painfully dragged by, and Loki remained sat on the floor within his library. He ignored the useless relics of stolen moments, they were unimportant as of now. He was sat cross legged, his head balanced on the hand that was propped up on his leg. Never had he had reason for such informality, and now he was taken aghast; studying himself. His days of self-hatred burned clear in forgotten memoirs - he cared not for such stupidity, despite the truthfulness in her words.

His immortality meant nothing to him, but it did indeed have its perks... She was right. She was always right. Her words had cracked a wall within him, a wall that has been built upon after decades of mind games and miscarriage of life.

The mocking, the fragility; the unequal equality.

He would never be Thor's equal, but he didn't need the sentimentality anymore, he had washed his hands of it the day Thor was punished.

Remembrance of the teasing's were all too lucid... He was a wielder of magic, and that would never compare to the traits in which his brother was blessed with. Magic was looked down on as a woman's doing as it catered such precision that no man should have the fingers to spin. Loki was tall; but did not inherit such muscles that Thor inhibited. Loki was the child of a Frost Giant, yet he was no more than 6 foot 3. He was a perfect cause for laughter.

Even now, he sat alone, with a small break in the walls he so solemnly built. His chest writhed with guilt, and without meaning to, he found himself back in Amelia's room. He had said he would stay, and stay he must. How could he be so foolish? Amelia Stark meant nothing to him - Nothing! And yet he stayed by her side in the darkness, his hatred for Amora was shining brighter than ever before. Why couldn't she go back to being obsessed with Thor?

The lifespan that Loki had endured had given him great knowledge and power beyond any humans reach, though Thor's coronation had happened a mere three year ago, it was a major step in the life of an Aesir. A human's life was easily overlooked within the blink of an eye.

Amelia had asked him to stay, and so he had. He had done a good deed. Did he benefit from this good deed? No. Then why in Odin's name had he done it? She made him question every choice he made. No matter how hard he thrived, he failed to convince himself that it was okay to feel the way he felt It was okay to be alone; he regretted the day he made the first contact.

No amount of magic he could conjure could turn back the time, to have never met her is what he wished. He didn't want to throw it all away, it was too late.

He remembered back to the car park, the fight that she contained was a sole purpose for personal amusement. He had been drawn to her, he had known the risks but he just had to have his part. He cursed himself.

Loki was starting to remember the person that he used to be, she was the reason for that and it flared anger in the parts of Loki that knew of the mistakes that he could make. He wasn't going to pretend; he was a liar, a manipulator, a game changer...

But he was never fake. Not to himself. That's why he held this self debate, he needed to do something about this... About her. Before she ruined him.

He sighed down at his hand in the darkness, it was resting upon her leg above the sheets once again. Her lifeless body had warmed to his hand almost instantly; his cold, deadly hand. He couldn't leave, not until morning decided it would wake.

He wasn't going to fall, not just yet.

Tomorrow he would set things straight, he would convince himself, and Amelia, that he was a force not to be reckoned with. But what could he possibly do to change the possibly explosive future? He would just have to make her hate him; it was a reasonable and typical choice of doings. Was it not? He would surely find amusement within his havoc, it was a part of him...

He was almost certain of it. Almost.

His genius plans started to form, and for a split second, only a second, he felt another pang of guilt. He pushed it to the bottom of his brain; never to speak of such an absurdity again.

Loki Laufeyson and his mastermind plans, he would always get whatever it was that he happened to want, and tomorrow, he wanted small, doable things. He needed his armour back, it was the biggest way to channel his power. If he maintained full power, he could grab back the small tricks and spikes of skill that he lacked without his armour. He would most definitely be at full potential.

**Amelia's P.O.V**

If my life was televised, I would be an international star. From Stark relation to villain consideration, today was most definitely not one of my best days, I could almost feel it within the walls of my brain that something, anything, was going to occur, causing me to doubt my whole being. I needed to open my eyes a little, something was bound to force them open anyhow.

Everything had started out perfect, myself and Loki had successfully infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D's - stupidly easy - evidence base, and started our hunt for something that I had to ask twice about. His helmet. We were breaking into the most guarded evidence supremacy base for a helmet. A helmet. We had taken down an army of guards... For a helmet.

We had arrived in New York earlier in the morning, the morning fog made the polluted air look dirtier in the over-crowded rush hour streets. I'd been here once, unwillingly of course, it was my home city. What sort of intelligence agency was located in the midst of New York anyhow?

A stupid one.

Loki had been acting strange, and by strange I mean he was acting his usual cold-driven self. He was making overly snide comments and repeatedly tried to push me from the edge of my seat, but I had woken up super glued to this ride of insanity. I wanted to forget that last night had happened and Amora did not exist. That I hadn't been shaken up by a mere dream and Loki hadn't stayed with me while I slept for my well being.

What was most unusual was his tendency to ignore me and then grow annoyed at me if I didn't keep up, if I was to be pushed over the edge then I was bringing this entertainment with me. I refused to let it get to me for the amusement I gained at Loki's annoyance, I happened to be in an evil-god partnering mood.

And now? Now I was watching him kiss the last remaining receptionist who had all the passwords to obtain access to lower levels. She was tall and sported business attire with a mix of blonde hair and big breasts.

I hated people. People were hateable.

I felt a sudden hatred for the receptionist but I pushed it to the side as Loki walked over to the touch-screen key pad fluently, not failing to grin at me from over his shoulder. It seemed that by kissing people he could steal certain information. How fortunate.

I had waited around the corner per his instructions and didn't fail to hit the receptionists head on her desk as I walked by, satisfied by her silenced yelp and Loki's raised eyebrow. She was unconscious.

We entered the elevator as it started to decent painfully slow, I stole a glance at Loki who was watching me curiously. We were stood facing the doors, side-by-side because we were that bad-ass enough to take the elevator to our illegal destination.

"I liked her." He smirked.

"I did not." I returned with a smile as the doors opened, revealing 5 guards with heavily loaded guns aimed at us unwaveringly.

I kicked the first one's gun from his hand, and used it to hit him over the head as I kneed the next one in the crotch-area. I glanced at Loki to see the other 3 guards lying unconscious and scowled as I hit the second one over the head as I had done the first. I was not going to contribute to his games; that didn't alter my annoyance in losing, though I was not participating. It didn't make sense... I had to be better than him at something, surely.

"Not bad," He snickered as we continued down the metal-walled hallway.

I felt like a mouse in a trap, minus the trap.

"Finally decided that I'm worth your words?" I rolled my eyes as we turned the corner into another two guards, I gave in at withholding participation in his games, two could play with a winning chance.

S.H.I.E.L.D clearly had a panicked plan in action as they threw guard after guard at us, but there was no sign of Fury and the guards were useless. Loki made it his doing to take on them both at once, stealing the opportunity from me, and I just stood by to watch the show. He spun gracefully and lifted his fist, hitting one of the guards square in the face... He was definitely unconscious before he hit the floor.

"I never said otherwise," He grunted before swiping the second guards legs from him and bringing his forearm down on his chest.

"You didn't have to say anything." I muttered as I stepped over the guards to join Loki in walking down to the corridor.

"I think you have misunderstood who I am." He returned in an irritated manor.

The corridor ended at shining metal double doors as I trailed behind Loki, taking one last glance over my shoulder.

Opening doors bare handed was far too normal for Loki as he thrust both doors open without physical contact, just a simple flick of his left wrist. The doors hit the walls as he marched through, causing them to revert back as I entered. Luckily, I raised my arms in time to reopen the door, grunting a little and cursing him under my breath childishly.

We had emerged into a warehouse-like room which contained row after row of metal shelves housing worn cardboard boxes and I picked up my pace to catch up to him, following his storming self around corners, his leather was certainly complimenting his perfectly toned body.

Not that I noticed.

"I haven't misunderstood your egotistical being whatsoever," I followed him around each corner, trying not to maintain too close to his strutting self, "Or your murderous tendencies. Or that you're an alien extraordinaire."

He stopped and spun to face me and I raised my eyebrows, noting his every move. There was a large risk that he planned on biting my head off in a more than figure of speech manor.

"And you care not?" He asked, eyes narrowing as if I was lying, "Or should I be in fear of a knife you may place in my back?"

I raised my open hands and tilted my head subconsciously at his words, I 'cared not' that he was any of those things. "No knife here. It's not my business if you thrive on chaos."

"You should not trust me," He sighed, and I felt his eyes bore through me... Maybe it was a magic thing of his. I shuddered. "You know this."

I dropped my eyes to the floor in thought; I did not trust him, we were acquaintances, nothing more... I would not trust him in a bank robbery; he would be the most likely candidate to kill his crew to leave himself more money. But I couldn't relieve myself of the horrible feeling that I was lying to myself, I had nobody else.

"Foolish girl." He muttered.

"Hey, you're my only ally." I defended, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Now the whole of Earth wants me behind bars for questioning. And I don't trust you, I wouldn't put my life in your hands for a single second."

He hummed in reply and stopped in front of a door, a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach began to grow. Loki was undergoing a full blown self debate that he refused to speak of aloud... He was deciding whether or not something was a good idea and I started to doubt my status as friendly. New thoughts sprung in my mind. I had not technically announced that I was tangled up with the god of mischief, so there was a way to bypass a brutal sentence if I was to explain myself.

He studied the door for a moment, before touching it lightly. "I shall return," He said before disappearing.

Another thing that Loki had not told me, another reason not to trust him. I was beginning to get frustrated due to my lack of knowledge. I kicked the wall in thought, being dreadfully reminded of the pain I already had in the foot.

Great. I was in with the world's most dangerous and feared villain. I was now considered his sidekick according to the taunting guards.

I was no fucking sidekick.

I could hear the faint sound of rushed, loud voices from the entrance of the evidence room, calling in different directions, and I could do nothing more but swear, especially when Loki returned with an angered look upon his face. He stared at me blankly and suspicion exploded within me.

"We should probably get going..." I trailed off.

It was easy to see that Loki was pissed off at last night's event, which was probably the most legitimate reason for his stranger-than-usual behaviour. He was also empty handed... Empowering his rage. My mind raced as the voices neared, any chance of escape began to slim, until finally his plot unravelled itself.

If I had seen this coming, I would have torn his throat out before he would have had a chance to blink. Or I liked to think that, as he could probably tear me limb from limb blindfolded.

He touched my right leg in a swift motion, causing me to cry out in pain as I heard a muffled crack that wavered my balance. The bastard broke my leg. Before acing his infamous vanishing annoyance. My whole thought stream had been disrupted by the scream of pain thy tore it's way to my head from my leg.

I should have known he would pull a trick like this. It was my stupidity that forced me to think otherwise. The guards were approaching and I saw no reason to fight back; I was injured and angry. I was not fit enough to fight back. Wasn't admitting you had a problem the first step to recovery?

Who cared?

I could see Loki's smug face behind my eyelids and so I concentrated on snapping at the guards who pulled me abruptly from the warehouse. They were brainless idiots, trained to guard; that was going fantastically swell for them. Their shoulders remained square and their heads remained high... They were obviously trying to impress someone, but I did not appreciate being man handled.

Hell no.

"My leg is fucking broken you imbecile." I growled to the guard on my right who jumped anxiously and turned his face away from my line of sight. Idiots.

"Maybe it would not be broken if you hadn't got your stupid ass involved with Loki." The Director's voice sounded from in front of me, I lifted my head to meet his glowering gaze and I did my best to return it, instead of cursing myself for ever allowing myself to slightly trust Loki - it was as if this whole act was done purposefully to prove a point.

It clicked with his words of foolishness I portrayed, but this was too far-fetched to be another joke. It was a point. A point that he cared not for excess damage... And that he was in control. Whatever the reason, I was pissed off beyond words.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Nicky?" I was brought to a halt in front of Fury and I refused to stand straight as the grip on the guards' hands increased, bruising my skin, I scowled at my captors menacingly, "Because I'm going to run away, with a broken leg."

"Sir?" One of the guards asked cautiously and he waved them off, leaving me to stand alone. My leg hurt.

"All of the CCTV for the past hour is nonexistent," Fury started, his eyebrow raised, "Care to share on why that may be?"

"Loki was involved, are details needed?" I rubbed my face in controlled annoyance, "Are you going to arrest me or am I standing here for nothing?"

I may as well jump straight to the point, I was taken by Loki, twice, and I was still relatively alive and in one piece; my heart had grown cold and the world was at its most agitating cycle.

"Are you working with Loki to dominate the world or am I standing here for nothing?" He returned, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Smooth questioning," I asserted, trying to control my annoyance so that I would not snap at him and result in cuffs; he liked to show who was in charge, "No, I don't have suicide plans to dominate the world. Who the fuck would want this world?"

"What was your stupid rendezvous disappearing act with Loki?" He interrogated further, but seemed pleased by my answer.

Technically I wasn't lying; I did not have plans to rule the world but his chain of questions were exhausting repetitions.

"You ask a lot of questions," I stalled, trying to think of a legitimate reason for going with Loki willingly, why could anyone go with him willingly? "Don't we need two chairs, a table and one of those one way mirrors?"

"Just answer the question." Fury pushed.

"Stark pissed me off, I made a stupid decision taking Loki's hand, Loki teleported." I recalled, leaving out minor details of truth, "He wanted something from the evidence .. Evidently."

"What exactly did he want?" Coulson asked, joining the conversation.

He held a notepad in one hand but closed it with a snap, handing it to another agent, "It's good to see you again."

"I'm unsure, Loki isn't stupid enough to explain to me his endless methods of insanity." Part of me felt bad for saying such things, the other half repented in anger with a pitchfork and roaring fire.

I shifted my weight onto my healthy leg, inwardly groaning causing Coulson to frown at me with worry. That guy really had a soft spot for me, a strange parental protection that was highly to my advantage, considering no other agent would mess with Coulson when seriousness was involved, but Coulson always looked curious. And mysterious.

He _was_ a S.H.I.E.L.D agent.

"So he just decided to drag you along for the ride?" Fury said unsympathetically.

"He wanted my help, my combat skills aren't exactly poor." I reasoned, trying to ignore the mass of eyes that glared at me from the sidelines as people were seen to by paramedics... We had caused quite a conundrum.

"And did you help?" He asked, despite Coulson's 'she has only just gotten back' glare, but Fury did not care for patience, just answers.

I lifted my right shoulder and dropped it in a shrug, "I didn't fancy being disembowelled."

Fury nodded once before motioning for me to follow him, supposedly for more questions. I took a step before stopping at the horrible crunch I felt in my leg, and all of my anger came rushing to the anger once again, "My leg is broken."

"If I hear you say that one-"

"Your leg is broken?!" Coulson exploded, interrupting Fury which was rare, Coulson was a loyal agent despite his tendency to speak his mind... Fury unfolded his arms to stare at Coulson as he continued, "Why haven't you been seen by a paramedic-"

"I'm fine." I interrupted, nodding at Fury. I didn't need a pity party.

"She's fine." Fury agreed, despite the tremble in my shoulders.

"Amelia," Stark spoke from behind me, his voice was strong and confident... He had returned to his Stark self... Finally. "Can we tal-"

"My leg's broken." I nodded at Coulson, who turned to Stark and shrugged.

"Her leg is broken."

Coulson pulled one of my arms over his shoulders and allowed me to lean on him, limping away from the crazy scene of unconscious guards, an interrogating Fury and an uncle I planned on avoiding, especially now that his charming self had returned.

"Thank you." I began as I climbed into Coulson's car, though I it was an evident S.H.I.E.L.D car, Coulson probably had a lot more taste than black on black, with blacked out windows.

There was an silence as we drove, and I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly, "Can we avoid the hospital?"

"But-"

"Anywhere but the hospital." I tried, smiling at him when I heard him sigh and alter course.

Coulson was tolerable, unlike the majority of the human race. I wanted to avoid the hospital as being hooked to a drip in a white bed with white surroundings was a high vulnerability. Those hospital gowns were most repulsive.

I took in the world around me; I had never been to New York besides being born here... I never considered it necessary to return as its busy streets and yellow taxi clichés were far too nostalgic for my liking. A lot of the buildings were clean and new; supposedly down to recent repairs concerning a certain alien invasion last year. I hadn't read all too much into it, it was relieving to learn that humans weren't the only race within the universe - the universe was fucked if the only life it contained happened to be human, we'd probably wipe ourselves out before we had a chance to spread among the stars.

Tragedy.

I groaned and hit my head purposefully on the window when we pulled up outside the Stark Tower, great, fantastic, I'd rather be anywhere but here. I faced Coulson with a scowl and he returned it with a roll of eyes as he opened his door.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thank you for the follows and favourites, lovelies!**

Out of all the places within New York, I had been brought here by Coulson, I couldn't help but feel humorously betrayed... I had forced him to alternate his course, though. I stared at the busy sidewalk and then up at the rest of the tower. I hit my head on the window once again, earning a humored chuckle from Coulson.

"The widows are bulletproof, try not to hurt yourself too much." Coulson smirked, before opening my door and forcing me into the lobby.

"I think I prefer the hospital." I muttered as we entered the elevator.

I rolled my eyes at the fake plants, what were the use of them? They didn't even make the place look any brighter or happier, it just symbolized laziness. Was it such a chore to water plants?

Then again, neither took my fancy.

Plants die.

"Relax, he's not in until tonight. The tower has just had its repairs completed, the rest of them are here already." He informed apologetically, "Would you prefer to go to your room or would you like to... Mingle?"

"I'd rather not..."

"Your room it is," He muttered, pressing a button on the wall of the elevator which lit up upon impact.

Fancy.

"My room?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Your room," Coulson nodded.

The elevator doors opened and I peered out carefully before exiting. The elevator doors led to a lounge, which I forced myself to trudge through, allowing my eyes to trace every inch of the room. How long would I have to retire to this pandemonium? I tried to ignore the glass row of windows that created the outer wall from floor to ceiling and I couldn't help but recall the information I had received of Loki throwing my uncle out of a window within the Stark Tower...

What I would have done to witness that firsthand.

So far, I could count one CCTV camera in the far end of the room and I felt slightly violated, wondering how long it would be until I had my privacy at its full potential. Everything was black, apart from the two white doors that were opposite one another on the two walls that curved around the lounge in a ovular manor.

Coulson pointed to the door to my left, "Your room. It contains an en suit bathroom, in which contains every necessity you'll need. This is the lounge."

He opened his arms as he spoke, motioning to the entirety of the room. When had Coulson became a tour guide to the Stark Tower? I sat down on the sofa to relieve my leg of the consistent burning pain that thrust throughout the right side of my body. My leg actually felt displaced at a peculiar angle... Fuck.

I ignored the black sofas and regularity of formality, also turning away from the large in-wall tv. I proudly refrained from making a comment on the typicality but instead diverted my attention to the urgency of my leg, it needed looking at... That much I was certain. I definitely wanted to avoid the chances of it healing back in a deformity. The pain was a constant reminder of the level of anger that was still growing within me, a special present for Loki. Loki was -  
Well.

He was a villain.

It was such an obvious observation yet I happened to overlook it when I took into consideration the rarity of his betrayal. I should have foreseen this. I was sorely lacking my previous sanity by taking advantage of what I had. How could I have been so foolish? He was a heartless god with no recollection for humans. He wasn't a good person. But who I was I to speak of good or bad? I wasn't an angel. I was a criticising hypocrite; I was blaming Loki for my mistakes, but this simple fact only boosted my anger. I was criticising Loki for everything I knew could happen; this was my fault.

There was no need for his betrayal though. He was the one who left the knife in my back - double fucking standards.

"There is a gym two floors below, that's Captain Rogers's floor. You have permission to use it. The floor above is the headquarters floor, which is the mingling area for everyone. The floor beneath is Banner's, try not to wake him up if you understand my referance." Coulson smiled as he walked back to the elevator, "Clint and Natasha have the floor three beneath this, if you were wondering."

"Send a S.H.I.E.L.D paramedic for my leg tomorrow, I'm sure they have the technology to scan my leg without actually taking me to the hospital." I called as he walked into the elevator in a parading manor.

He saluted me in reply as he stepped into the lift, "Oh! And you're sharing this floor with Thor."

"You could have told me tha-" The elevator doors closing cut me off and I scowled at the closed doors.

Coulson knew how to make things run smoothly... And exit before the aftershock of consequences. Let's hope Thor was absent from town tonight.

I flicked my gaze to the muted tv, before standing up to locate the absent remote. I searched the table and the sofa before limping over to the tv, looking for a button. There must have been so-

"Could I be of service, Ms Stark?" JARVIS's voice startled me and I almost fell over on my leg. I forgot about this guy.

"Oh wow," I put my hand to my chest as my heart hammered against my rib cage, "You scared me to death."

"I most definitely hope not; I would not like to have your death on my conscience Ms Stark." He replied in the all too familiar smooth voice.

"JARVIS," I smiled, falling back onto the sofa, ignoring my injury for the time being, "You don't have a conscience."

"I'd like to think so, Ms Stark." He returned.

"I agree with you there," I claimed, staring at the ceiling, "Guilt is useless."

"That may seem the case, unless you happen to be human."

"Oh JARVIS, I am very much human." I laughed; JARVIS was always a highlight of my day.

If I had to spend my days talking to only one other, JARVIS would most definitely be that person.

"It appears so. Welcome back. Would you like me to scan for clarity?" He asked causing me to snort.

He offered to scan me to ensure I was human; I was certain JARVIS had a small sense of humour planted within his mother-board of hardware.

"No, no. My anger most definitely proves me human. Could you scan my leg?" I asked cautiously, unsure of his capabilities on this floor.

I had only ever entertained myself with him back in the Stark family mansion... I wondered if it remained standing.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again and I traced tiresome circles into the material of the sofa with my finger, "Scan complete. Mr Stark has not installed a projector within this room; shall I send my results to the television?"

I nodded and forced myself up towards the tv, staring open-mouthed at the now appearing images, "Son of a bitch."

My leg was broken, quite clearly. In several places. I felt seemingly light headed as I stared at the image of my almost-shattered leg. Was once not enough for the bastard?

"It appears your tibia is broken in five places." JARVIS informed.

"No shit." I muttered as I spun away from the tv, "Are there any painkillers on this floor?"

I ignored his hospital advisory and he ignored my advisory to call me Amy. I wandered into my bedroom awaiting a response.

"There are many in your bathroom."

"Thanks JARVIS." I limped into my bedroom, pulling my vest over my head and ignoring the cliché bedroom.

The door to the bathroom was open so I figured the other door was a wardrobe... And not a spare wardrobe from previous events. The wardrobe was atypically full to the brim, neatly packed and coordinated, containing far too many things that I would never wear. There was a wall full of shelves that housed shoes and I grew irritated at the Stark style, I needed out of this place already.

I searched through drawer after drawer of ever piece of clothing one may ever need in a typical lifespan and slammed one drawer shut, retorting to JARVIS.

I only wanted pyjamas... Jeez.

I finally found a small collection of pyjamas, with the help of JARVIS, and sighed at the horrible, oversized button-up tops and cliche pants. JARVIS shared my distaste and apologised on the Towers behalf, which only made me grin a little. I settled with typical white cotton shorts and a black tshirt that was a size too big and carried them back into the bedroom.

I retreated to the corner of my bed and stared at my legs. I was wearing skinny jeans and my right leg was visibly swollen to twice its original size, my jeans were cutting any chance of more swelling but also restricted my leg far too much for my liking. Always with the skinny jeans.

I resorted to downing probably too many painkillers and cutting the jeans from my legs with a pair of medical scissors, nearly cutting a finger or two off instead but I couldn't seem to care as I stared, wide eyed, almost horrified with my leg, if it weren't for the fact I had seen worse.

I had stepped on a grenade before and it was thankfully dysfunctional, exploding after I was a couple of meters in front of it which resulted in wood and metal being thrown into both my legs and torso. It was to no extent that my uncle had suffered, but I had many scars from it. I was nineteen and had battle stories, my future shone bright.

And now I had a magically induced injury. Again.

Fuck. I needed to stop that.

I wandered back into the lounge area, asking JARVIS to put something entertaining on the tv when some thoughts came to mind. What was the need for this? I wasn't here for a reason. This wasn't part of the plan. It was just Loki being a snide green-eyed motherfucker and fucking everything up. Asshole. There was no lesson to be learnt from this other than I really needed to punch Loki twice as hard as I had done before, but though I was angry at Loki, I wanted to proceed in our plans, what I would gain decreased with each passing day and yet I wanted revenge all the more.

That was what worried me the most, I still wanted to destroy everything I had ever known and built, I still wanted to leave this petty planet behind... I still wanted to fight at Loki's side. My life was short, and so I planned on spending it doing whatever it was that I wished to do.

Could JARVIS hate people? I didn't want the chances of him hunting me down and slaughtering my ass in whatever cyber way was doable via himself. It was more of an untameable day dream... JARVIS; Advanced computer, ruler of the world.

"JARVIS," I began, "You can't hate people, can you?"

"I cannot, though I can be programmed to restrict certain people and alter my choice of words."

"Good. So when I do something most likely life-changing, I'd appreciate your existence in my life." I smiled a little. Computers were likeable. "Could you pull up every file you have on Loki Laufeyson?"

I spent a couple of hours trying to learn everything I could about Loki, but I found nothing, so I retorted to asking JARVIS to insult people, which amused me momentarily as he told me about his mishaps with Barton. We then talked about coffee.  
I had a sudden urge for coffee and the kitchen was upstairs, and despite my laziness I was well prepared to fight my way through a jungle for it. It was midnight. The _precious_ Avengers should be in bed... But I didn't like my chances of showing up unprepared and having to conclude in answering a million questions that Fury had already asked.

"JARVIS, is anyone currently upstairs?" I questioned curiously.

"Doctor Banner is watching television. Do you wish that I contact him?"

"No, is everyone else asleep?" I asked.

"It appears so."

I walked into the elevator and sighed, I was too tired to change my clothes and all I wanted was coffee. At least the elevator lacked frustrating repetitive music. The doors opened, revealing a dimly lit lounge area that was four or five times bigger than the one on my floor. I wandered into the kitchen in awe. It was a nice kitchen. And I was half asleep.

I made coffee and joined Banner on the sofa, at the opposite end to him. I cradled my cup in the darkness, the only light was from glow of the tv and lights from within the city. It was a calm atmosphere and I revelled in it. He was drinking tea, presumably.

I sighed after I finished my cup... Oh how I missed coffee. I tried desperately to think of a legitimate cause for conversation, but couldn't conjure one as I made my way down to my floor with a another cup of coffee and a bowl of noodles.

The silence between myself and Banner had been welcoming, he was intelligent and allowed the silence to be comfortable, but I didn't want to interrupt our silence by slurping noodles, that was beyond me.

"JARVIS," I said from within the lift, "Get a kettle, coffee, sugar and milk for my room. Thanks."

I wandered into the lounge, the pain in my leg had become background pain as I had grown used to it, it was currently an annoyance. I left my empty bowl and cup on a random shelf and sauntered further into the lounge.

I threw myself down on the sofa, telling JARVIS to turn up the heating and turn off all lights. The bedroom was too far for my liking.

I was not a happy morning person.

Or so Thor thought as he sat on the floor in front of the sofa, holding the side of his face I had spontaneously punched during his interference with my sleep.

"If I had known your morning self was not to be reckoned with, I would have left you be." He laughed, retorting to sit in front of the sofa.

"You should have left me be anyway." I grumbled as I turned and pulled the blanket over my head...

I did not recall falling asleep with a blanket.

"It's nice to see you have found my robe sufficient enough-"

I bolted upright and pushed the brown robe from me, scowling at Thor who laughed and pushed the hair from his face.

"I have only awoken you as the voice in the roof informed me of a medic arriving here." He stood up as he spoke, taking his robes with him. He was wearing brown leather pants and a white shirt that was half tucked in as if he had just returned from a tiresome pirate-y journey.

Gods in leather must be the current trend.

The voice in the roof... "You mean JARVIS." I laughed, despite my morning gruffness, Thor had a talent, you could not remain angered at him. "He's Just A Rather Very Intelligent System."

"Thank you, Ms Stark. The S.H.I.E.L.D doctor is on his way up." JARVIS informed.

"You people never fail to impress." Thor beamed as he pulled on his robe and I felt suddenly underdressed in my shorts and shirt.

The elevator pinged and it was too late to change; a man with a rather big bag entered the room and he strode to the sofa I was sat on. I took a small moment to thank Coulson who had debriefed the doctor on the situation. He ordered me to rest my leg on the table, taking no notice to the scars; he had most likely seen some gruesome shit in his time, considering he was working for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Thor, on the other hand, looked pained each time he looked at my legs, and I started to feel on edge beneath his gaze.

"Thor," I sighed, feeling slightly self-aware as Thor looked in need of an explaination, "I know you do not scar, but I've been in many fights from such a young age..."

"My apologies, I do not mean to stare." He sighed deeply, looking dreadfully guilty as he sat beside me on the sofa, "Forgive me. A woman such as yourself should never know such pain."

I tried so very hard not to sigh and comfort him with words, before pulling my usual facade, "You should see the other guy."

Thor was just as confusing as his brother; despite being much more reflective of what he felt, his decisions were not always logical. He carried the burden of his brother with him with each step he took, he felt guilty about another's pain no matter whom they may be. In Asgard, women were treated differently, this much was plausible. Women did not fight, they were fragile beings to be treated with the upmost respect.

He had told me he was fond of Sif for her independence and her skill as a warrior; that was uncommon of women.

Earth was a mess.

He was horrified by the scars that marked my legs, he had looked momentarily angered as if he had missed an opportunity to somehow prevent any of the events.

The doctor had ignored our escapade and had barely acknowledged Thor who did not mind at all. He seemed to like the dismissal. The doctor stated I would need surgery, and it was easy to deduce that I was highly pissed off by the idea as he shrugged sassily and asked what I expected him to do. Damn S.H.I.E.L.D and their obsession with abundance.

The doctor had left and I sat in angered silence.

"Thor, how does one contact your bastard of a brother?" I breathed, trying to remain from insanity.

"You don't." He shrugged, bypassing my insults.

"He's going to fix this." I growled.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, my blood boiling with anger. I had told Thor to leave me alone after I had changed into casual clothes, the words had hurt him, but I wasn't the caring type. He had left in an array of puppy eyes and apologies.

I had already decided I couldn't give a shit about anything else and the sooner this was over the better. I hated everything more than ever, and the last part of the plan required Loki.

This time, I noticed him before he noticed me.

I was taking a dose of pain killers in the bathroom when I felt the dismay of air around me, the all too familiar tingling sense on my skin as the hairs on my arms stood on end. The feel of magic nearby. I was getting good at this.

"You're going to do something for me." I stated as I walked into my bedroom, refusing to look at him as I busied myself with other things.

Like turning the lamp around without reason.

"Am I?" He asked surprised at my demand, I was in no gaming mood.

"No." I faltered, "You're going to do two things for me."

"And what would they be?" He mused, sat upon the bottom of my bed.

I finally turned to face him.

"We're going to go to the floor above, via elevator. You're going to explain to the gullible pinheads that I am not, in fact, on the side of the angels, and then you're going to fix my fucking leg." I ordered, pointing out of the room and staring at him until he moved.

"This could be interesting." He said as we stepped into the elevator.

JARVIS had most likely informed Stark of Loki's hostile presence, so there was no need for the element of surprise advantage. Our bad-assery and involvement of elevators were becoming more and more common.

It appeared that each of The Avengers were within the room and were leisured around in random places with a large differ of beverages, making our entrance much more dramatic.

"I think our invitation must have slipped your minds," I interrupted their conversations.

I waited until each conversation came to an abrupt halt before continuing, "How upsetting. It seems that we took it upon ourselves to make an appearance. Hope you don't mind."

I could see Loki smirk from the corner of my eye, beyond pleased with our current situation. None of them would attack as I was not yet deemed an enemy, and facing the facts... None of them were a match for Loki who could teleport to anywhere at any time, but oh my, this was fun. I turned to face him and he remembered his role in this part, I was quite surprised by his willingness to follow my instructions, but I buried it deep and tilted my head a tad to the left.

"Ah, yes." He remembered, turning to face each person within the room, "My turn. Amelia is not, in fact, on the side of the angels."

I kept my gaze focused on Loki, internally scowling at him for mocking my words to the exact, but it was a rather humorous concerning nobody else other than myself had knowledge of the fact. I zoned out momentarily, watching each move Loki made the way he could manipulate the crowd by the mere change in expression. I heard Barton fire a most-likely insulting argumentative insult at Loki who fired a most-likely more insulting argument back. Neither registered in my mind as I leant back against the wall impatiently, the sooner we could leave the better. But part of me was captivated by the atmosphere, and despite Loki's hostile presence, it wasn't hard to tell that he was enjoying himself.

I was brought back into reality by Loki's hand on my shoulder and the slight misconduct of location. I took a quick glance at my location as Loki let go of my shoulder and stepped back, awaiting my next move. We were back in England, in the same hotel where this all began. I had to take a few deep breaths and force myself to concentrate once again.

Well that was most certainly eventful.

"You are a fucking asshole." I snapped as soon as my brain refocused. He was silent as I stepped towards him. "What the actual fuck was this for?" I pointed to my leg before throwing my arms wide for exaggeration, "Great move. Are you actually serious? Did I put a hair out of line? Explain this to me or so help me I will repeatedly punch your face with my fist until your face no longer looks like a face."

He began to laugh, before sighing in happy contempt and looking to the roof.

I punched him as I had promised and stepped back, the punch was a lot more forceful than ever before.

I stepped back slightly and cradled my hand as adrenaline started to seep into my veins, "You are one hypocrite of a motherfucker. Would you like the knife you left in my back? I could happily stab you in the chest with it. Three or four times. Is that good enough for you?"

"You knew from the start I contain no such humanity." He reminded as he grabbed my incoming fist before it hit him in the face again.

I did not like being restricted. His hair had fallen into his face and I could see a small splotch of blood beneath his nose, yet I didn't feel satisfied.

"It's not your lack of emotions, it's the stabbing! You betrayed me, Loki!" I spat, raising my other hand to punch him.

My heart was hammering in my ears and I was certain my head was going to explode. His grip on my other wrist tightened as he yanked me closer to him, my body was almost pressed against his and I breathed heavily in both shock and anger.

"You were foolish to trust me." He insisted as he caught my other fist in his hand and twisted slightly, causing me to coil into him in pain.

I pulled my body back but remained in his grip, a small wall of air separating us once again.

"Stop this stupidity! I don't give the simplest of shits that you could be the worst person in the fucking universe! You told me not to stab you in the back. We were in this together. This is not together, Laufeyson." I started to thrash as he held both my hands away from my body and I felt as useless as a porcelain doll.

He froze at the mention of his second name and finally threw me back onto the bed, I stopped for a moment. He stood above me, looking down on me.

I was leaning on my elbows before I pushed myself up, "I can't believe you."

"Leave then." He snapped suddenly, resorting in me widening my eyes in a slight shock, before reality set in.

"Maybe I would if you hadn't broken my fucking leg." I growled, standing up and taking a step closer, daring him to move either closer or further away, or to start a fist fight.

There was an abrupt silence and I refused to blink as I stared him in the eye. I was not backing down. Not this time.

"It's not my duty to save you. You've told me many times that you are not a child, yet you keep making foolish mistakes and aim the responsibility at me. If you are no child, get yourself out of messes you have so reluctantly gotten yourself into, Amelia." He made a swift motion with his hand, causing me to frown, before I felt my leg turn achingly cold and my skin felt as if it were glowing as I felt the all-too familiar tingling sensation.

It was much more different to the tingling I received from Amora's; Loki's felt strong, vivid... Lucid. Clear.

I winced when I felt the fibres of my leg stitch themselves together and I gasped. To conclude, there was a small crunch and I stared at it for a moment. At least I no longer needed surgery. My foot also felt highly relived which I had completely forgotten about until I unintentionally let out a gasp of relief.

_Get yourself into messes that you so reluctantly got yourself into._

This mess was something I had gotten myself into, and so I had to get myself out of it per se.

"Okay," I nodded in mock agreement, pushing past him to the door.

Maybe if I had been less enraged by Loki, I would have noticed the way his face had dropped at my willingness to give up. What I was giving up on was unclear; was I giving up on trying? Was I giving up on trying to maintain piece with Loki? Was I giving up on Loki?

Or myself?

I stormed down the corridor, pushing past many people who did not fail to call me rude, I held up a finger at a man who threatened me emptily. I was fuming.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N; I cannot thank you enough for the reviews and favourites, they make motivation easier to find when updating… Thank you.**

It was dark outside and I took full advantage of my fully functioning leg as I set my shoulders straight and moved for no-one. I walked and walked before taking a sharp turn down an alley way that I had gone down too many times. The only light that illuminated my solitary steps was the moon, casting a silver glow upon the ground. The ground was wet and I didn't bother to avoid puddles as I was wearing combat-boots.

Where was the best place to go when you had both nothing and no-one left, and your life was in shambles on the floor?

A bar of course. As I walked through the door, I made sure to pick a pocket from someone leaving the bar. I remained emotionless as I emptied the cash into my hand and dropped the now-empty wallet onto the beer stained floors, people were oblivious in the dim light accompanied by flashing lights to the beat of terrible music. I had done that too many times. I seated myself on the typical barstool and watched the barrister frown at me as he walked over, what was a girl like me doing in a bar like this? A girl like me... Looks were deceiving, but of course they were quick to judge a book by its cover.

My cover was most delusional.

"Rough day?" He asked, eyeing me suspiciously once again.

"Get me a glass of your strongest and keep them coming." I demanded, holding out a handful of notes.

"ID?" He asked and I felt my mind snap.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over the bar so that his legs no longer touched the ground and he dangled uselessly. This was not doable because of my empowering anger and the mans small, skinny frame. His breath quickened into short, sharp gasps.

His pupils dilated due to the fear in the low light as I brought my face to his, "Does it look like I carry ID?"

"I hope you like rum." He laughed nervously as I let him go and he slid back down the counter whilst struggling to stay upright for a moment.

The first hour within the bar I spent chain drinking rum until I could no longer feel the burn of the alcohol in my throat, I was swallowing a tasteless liquid - my tongue was numb.

Like my innards.

I had walked out on Loki, running from my problems seemed to be a nasty habit I had inherited. I had announced to the people of justice that I was a criminal and I was now in a shady bar, filled with shady people, drinking a lot of alcohol.

My decisions were going to be the death of me. I had fucked with the classical cycle that should have been my life and now I was...

A criminal?

Just like the rest of the boneheads that occupied this bar. I scanned the area, not caring that my vision was getting gradually hazier. A man in the midst of a group had been staring at me with gross, lust-filled eyes in the duration I had been in the bar. My drunken state of mind thrived for anger release as it pinpointed minor details. A fight would do just fine. He was typically small... And fat. He was wearing a leather jacket that was far too long to be fashion.

"Divert your eyes, or I'll do it for you." I said before taking a sip from my newly filled glass.

He moved a few seats up until he was sat on the stool next to me, a few of his dodgy looking colleagues had mindlessly followed. He grinned at me and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. The bar was full and noisy, people were dancing and lights were flashing. I took a moment to read the clock on the wall, it was 3am.

I snapped my head to face him as he put his hand over mine on the bar and I snatched my hand away, causing his colleagues to laugh. They looked at me like I was defenceless prey, I was tired of the repetitive situations.

"Fuck off."

"Feisty," The man elbowed the man to his left jokingly, "What's a girl like you doin' in a bar like this?"

I finally decided to allow my brain to run a simple diagnostic scan of the simpletons that surrounded me. Leather jackets, greasy hair, minus the small bald one... Who had a tattoo that circled the entirety of his face.

The small and fat one, who I deemed the leader, reached a hand for my thigh and I slapped him swift and hard, causing him to snarl. His breath stunk of alcohol thoroughly enough for it to sober me up... Irony.

"I think girls like you need to learn some manners. Ain't that right boys?"

"Yeah," The other greaser hissed, a dirty finger nail pointing in my face.

I threw the rest of the liquid down my throat and slammed the empty glass down on the table to begin my escapade, "What sort of spineless fucktards are you?"

Before my mind could register a single moment, I was yanked upright by the man. He had a tight grip on my arm and I felt my senses kick in. He started to pull me towards the exit, causing me to sober up a considerable amount. I pulled my arm from his grip before punching him in the stomach. I stumbled backwards a little, colliding with someone in the crowded dance floor, before shaking my head. Think Amelia. I - tried to -focused on sobering up.

My vision seemingly cleared as he moved towards me and I booted him between the legs, satisfied by his cry as he fell to the floor. My combat boots came in handy. The second man was also bald and moved in, without thinking I reached back for my glass and threw it at his head with immense power, adrenaline powered my limbs and I smiled, this was dangerous... And fun.

And I was on an angered power trip.

A couple of people stared at the nights entertainment, and I bowed a little sarcastically.

The second one moved in but a passerby grabbed his shoulder, "Leave her alone, dick!"

Somebody else joined in with a slurred, "Yeah, pussies."

The greaser punched the passerby and the passerby punched him twice as hard...

The rest of his group, the other greasers that they had been derived from, jumped in and I stepped back, watching the full blown bar squabble. It was the grease gang vs the world, and it was rather amusing. This was my doing, and I smirked, a full blown bar fight, thanks to me.

Who needed Loki to get them out of troubles, now?

I picked up my barstool and brought it down, grunting as I hit one of the grease monkeys that I hadn't even had an issue with on his back. The stool broke and so did his consciousness. Any other person may have felt bad, but oh god it felt good. I threw punches where I could and even landed a few kicks. This was the right way to get your anger out, but I was almost certain I was going to end up black and blue.

The man at fault of it all had recovered from his crotch misery and growled at me, his nostrils flaring. He was considerably taller when pissed off and grabbed my hair, forcing my head under his arm in an air-restricting headlock. I was just preparing to leave... You can never have too much fun. I dug the heel of my boot down his leg, before biting his hand until I drew blood. I needed air. He hissed in pain and threw me forward in a frenzy, I collided with the bar but managed to gulp for well needed air.

I couldn't help but grin at the masterpiece I had created.

I armed myself with a beer bottle as I hauled myself up, there was a considerable amount to choose from... You could barely see the horrendously dirty floor. There were pieces of broken glass everywhere and the vibe was brilliant; it was like every cowboy bar fight, except this one contained Englishman and a lot more swearing.

I stood up to face him one last time, "Is that all you've got or am I going to new to find someone else to satisfy my anger?"

He staggered towards me, his teeth bared as he snarled. I brought the bottle down on his head, hearing the smash and being unable to move from his crash landing area. He fell right onto me and I was momentarily dazed.

Was this karma?

I went down under him within seconds, the smashed bottle was still in my hand and he weighed more than I could lift. I felt a warm liquid cover my hand as the pain alarms rocketed in my mind; the broken glass bottle was still in my hand, lodged between his body and mine.

Definitely karma.

I pushed him from me and avoided the midst of the fight, staggering through the doors and back into the street. I pressed my hand into my stomach, unsure of the extent of the wound I had just so stupidly received. How stupid was I? This was actually unbelievable.

My standards were decreasing with each day that passed. I needed away from everything and everyone. I needed time to sort myself out. I could feel the pain each time my heart have out a beat, the blood had stopped pouring as I'd pushed my shirt into the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

The rum was causing my mind to... Well, become a typical drunken mind.

Pressure, I needed to keep pressure on it.

I tried to recall all the information I had on first aid in the duration of my long journey home - I remembered where I had once lived, does that not deserve a medal? I searched for the spare key that inhibited my back garden, muttering a slurred 'hallelujah' as I managed to put the key into the lock. I pushed open the back door stumbled into the living room area, not forgetting to grab the first aid kit from the cupboard that also housed a bottle of vodka. I lifted my shirt up to evaluate the damage and sighed in relief, the glass had broken into my side but had missed any organ I needed to survive...

Which was all of them.

At the removal of my tshirt, the wound began to weep blood continuously again.

That looked bad.

I poured the vodka over the wound as I tried my best to pick out the shards of glass. I bit my lip to refrain from crying out at the burning pain. From the dirt on my hands to the dirt on the bottle, the last thing I needed was an infection that wove inches into the side of my body. If I managed to avoid passing out from blood loss and/or pain, I would happily survive.

If not... Who gave a shit anyway?

I needed stitches, that was a certainty. The blood was now flowing and I stared at it before the message hit my brain. I needed to stop that, or I would die an embarrassing death. I winced as I splashed more vodka on the opening, swigging some afterwards. Alcohol was both a blessing and a curse.

There was one piece of glass in the depth of the wound that I couldn't take out no matter how hard I pushed my fingers into the blood oozing, gaping, wound. The alcohol dulled the majority of the pain, but it didn't stop it completely. The pain was almost unbearable and I began to dread what it would feel like tomorrow. The last remaining shard needed to be removed, but that wasn't happening... There was nothing I could do.

The hospital wasn't an option, and it wasn't as if I had friends.

My hands were drenched in blood.

Mostly mine. I pushed two fingers into the hole in a last ditch effort to remove glass and let out a groan of writhing agony. Shit, shit, shit.

The tip of my finger grazed the top of the chunk of glass and in my attempt to grasp it between the two of my fingers, I pushed it further in causing exhilarating pain to shoot in every direction from the wound like a shot of poison. I gave up, but I couldn't give up the faint whimpers that left my mouth with each movement I made. I leant back against the wall, pushing together the wound, despite the reconciliation of the shard of glass that remained, and placed a line of mini plasters along it. I then taped a medical gauze around it before wrapping my torso in a bandage.

I forced myself to change from my blood soaked clothes, the experience was not joyful as I had to pull myself up each step before almost passing out. I was in a bad state. It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to change myself, but the feel of wearing my own clothes was almost comforting.

Denim shorts, a plain white shirt and black tights. I didn't really care for fashion.

I laughed as I inspected my work. It was stuck together with plasters; a deep wound, worthy of stitches and I was using plasters that my dad used to put on my legs if I had a small graze. If only he could see me now.

The alcohol still buzzed in my head and my stomach felt warm, I could barely conjure a sentence; I was having a mental breakdown. How human.

My life was in fucking shatters. I was useless. I couldn't do good deeds for anyone other than myself, I wasn't any good. I was fucking worthless. I had no metal suit, I didn't even have the brain to create such a thing. I had no special powers, no superhuman tendons; I was merely human! I almost bled to death at such a petty wound. They probably mocked me. I would mock me. I barely knew how to survive! Loki proved a point by breaking my leg; I was helpless compared to all of them. The super soldier, the Iron Man, the gods, the spies, the hulk... And magic. We were living in a universe that contained magic, and I was no match for any of them.

My mind was in pieces; small sentences were being broken and mixed up within my head. I screamed and brought my hand into contact with the floor; why the fuck was I so inferior?! I needed to break something. Anything.

My hand closed around my bottle and I hurled it at the wall in frustration; tears were streaming down my face. When was the last time I had cried? When my dad had so conveniently died? Why did he have to die? Why not me? Why was he allowed to leave and I was not? I dug my nails into my palms with all my might, releasing my stress.

Pain reminded me that I was still alive; still breathing conveniently within a world of people doing the same. I focused on breathing. A simple breath in to result in a steady breath out. Loki probably realised how useless I was; I was not like them. I was not in any league with them... Or him. I couldn't even fuck up right, it resulted in an accidental self injury.

I had no intelligence in major departments more so than an average adult. I was nothing special; I was the lowest of low. Pure scum. I couldn't even defend my own race, I didn't even get along with them. I tried - I tried for seven years! I'm not any different from the vulnerable humans; I am vulnerable human.

I couldn't even trust people.

I couldn't even feel what everybody else felt... I was lower than the human race. No matter how much I mocked them, I was always far lower than them. Always.

Nothing.

I was nothing. I am nothing. I was pitiless, I lacked remorse for the pain I had caused and the lives I had ruined. I was a monster who wouldn't blink an eye at a thousand deaths. Death didn't phase me. I was merciless.

I smashed the bottles that lined the table; and now she was gone too. I froze as I realised; I was an orphan.

How sad was the story of Amelia Stark? The world wouldn't be effected if I happened to leave. To die.

The room was a mass of broken glass and my hands were painted red with the blood, I had glass splinters in my hands and I couldn't care less. I could always ask Loki to kill me, I'm sure he'd take pleasure in such a thi-

A knock at the door interrupted my rage.

There was a small list of people that could possible knock on my door at this time, whatever the problem. I could easily cross Loki from the list...

He wouldn't knock.

I took a swig of vodka with each step towards the door I took, preparing myself for whatever awaited me on the other side.

I swung open the door to reveal a red and gold metal man standing there, he flipped up his helmet to speak before I smiled a sloppy half-smile, "No visitors."

I tried to close the door but his stupid metal foot prevented me from doing that. I stared down at it, the force of my head looking down almost caused me to fall forward in my drunken state.

I caught the door before falling completely, feeling a small amount of self accomplishment, "Woo, that was close."

"Can I come in?" He asked, though I doubted I had much choice in the matter.

I threw open the door wide, the bottle of vodka still in one hand, "Welcome to my humble abode."

I turned and swaggered into the living room, not waiting for him to follow me in. I sprawled out on the dirty 3 seater sofa, it was the only piece of furniture in the living area that wasn't covered in bottles or glasses.

"Looks like you had a party." He enquired as he walked in, his armoured feet crunching on the glass.

"I did," I held up a half-bottle of rum in a toast-like manor.

I tried to take a swig but it missed my mouth and I frowned at it, letting it fall to the floor. I was almost, almost, certain that you were not meant to mix your alcohol. Too late.

I had wrapped my hands in bandages, to protect them from further glass induced injuries, but I could feel the small cuts beneath the bandages, and each time I touched something, the glass splinters in my palms tickled my pain alarm.

"S.H.I.E.L.D are on their way," He sighed, not wanting to divulge into anything as of yet due to my state of mind.

How considerate.

I offered him a bottle and he took it without hesitation, "Are you going to go willingly or... Do you need help?"

Was he offering to take me elsewhere? That was a stab in the heart. What heart? I have no heart.

He was a bastard, it was all good.

"You're willing to help a fugitive?" I asked, I couldn't even make it sound sarcastic if I tried.

Alcohol did funny things to my brain.

I stood up, swaying a little as he shrugged. He had flown here in front of S.H.I.E.L.D to warn me. What was the point? It would have been funnier if I had bled to death.

"I'll go willingly," I smiled sympathetically, "I don't need to drag anyone else into this mess, if I have to share a cell, I'd rather not share it with you."

At least I was honest.

There was no knock at the door as the S.H.I.E.L.D agents stormed in, guns loaded. I put my hands in the air mockingly, only for them to get yanked into cuffs. I saluted Stark awkwardly as they carried me out; there was no way I could walk at their speed under alcohol influence.

Per Fury's annoyed stature at my unwillingness to cooperate; he had given strict instructions for me to be thrown into a room and not spoken with until I had sobered up. It was simple to admit that the previous day was a tremendous hurricane of humanity within me, it was a result to seven years of bottling up useless emotions. My bottle had been filled, the sides cracked and everything came pouring out into the unstable surrounding area. I had never done something quite so stupid, but I felt drained. More so than ever before; I had no sentimental value left to consider, I was at peace with myself which in result caused me to lose everything that would have made me, me.

I was now cuffed to the centre of a steel table at an awkward position, and no amount of complaining was going to alter that; mostly due to the fact that I told Fury to fuck himself... And everybody else if he deemed it fit.

Besides the blinding headache that caused me to squint at the light, my face hurt.

I recalled small moments from the bar and couldn't help but let out a lifeless laugh, it had been fun. It had been very fun, and now I was drowning in the repetition I had seen too many times before. But this time, I wasn't going to make the same, stupid mistakes that I made each time before.

Last night was an epiphany; my eyes were open and knowing, they lacked their previous sparkle but a little less of normality was needed sometimes, especially when I was in this alone.

They had removed the glass from my hands, and wrapped them thoroughly as though I was stupid enough to bite through the stitches that they were forced to put in a few deep gashes. S.H.I.E.L.D were an intelligence agency that lacked intelligence, every day was a war for them, a lie. They fought, for who? They died, for what?

The world was full of people fighting, but oblivious to what they were fighting for; like they had remained oblivious to the glass in my side. That was the first thing that sprung to mind and it was like an itch in the back of my head that I needed to scratch but I didn't want these morons touching me.

Stark had been firing a chain of unending questions at me for the past twenty minutes, he was truly desperate for the slight chance of any possibility that I was still in here somewhere. I was; I was me... Just not the 'me' he knew me to be. Such a pity.

I had yet to answer one of his questions in a serious context, he wanted the answers instead of allowing Fury to take wrath, guns blazing and laws aside, Fury would get his answers. He had convinced Fury to give him half an hour in the room with me, before he sent in the experts.

"Amelia!" He slammed his fist on the table, forcing me to look at him.

He just lost the points he had gained by loosening my cuffs, allowing me to sit back comfortably. "Stop all of this. Come back to us."

I remained silent.

"Stop siding with.. Him." He sighed, as though by simply saying his name could create spontaneous havoc and destroy everything within a 2 mile radius.

For me, it was like studying that science project that interested you...

That one time.

I awaited the reaction, I thrived for the results and was most curious about the solution left over to be analysed. I laughed bitterly; there was nothing left for me. I had no reason to tell them a damn thing that could help them pursue whatever it was they thought they had a lead on. They would never be able to capture Loki, unless he was caught willingly. His magic gave him a slight advantage.

He fell into the chair opposite me, defeated, "Amy, I know that no matter how much I apologise you will never accept it. But, god dammit, I can't forgive myself."

"Stop," I insisted mockingly, raising my palm as if calming a stray animal, "You're embarrassing yourself."

"What has he done to you?" He questioned accusingly.

Loki had only highlighted the problem of who I was, I had opened my own eyes... With the help of alcohol.

"Nothing." I snapped, the pain rushing through side had set me agitatedly on edge, I was impatient and tired.

"Then why the fuck are you acting this way?" He scolded, standing back up to pace the room.

It wasn't difficult to configure that he was worried for me, the only reason I hadn't reacted towards it was because I didn't care... He could care all he wanted, he could worry all he pleased, he was an idiot.

No matter how much he worried, S.H.I.E.L.D always get what they want, and a simple human emotion wasn't going to change that, "I am acting no different than I have been for... Seven years."

Technically is was six years, but if I recalled correctly, my birthday was relatively soon... I think. I wasn't overly sure, that could be related to the fact that five years had passed without the mentioning of my birthday... I think my mother had forgotten also.

My train of thought was rudely interrupted by Barton. I would have made a comment, a cocky, and snide worthy comment if it were not due to the fact that he had not entered alone. In front of him, he was dragging in another. Loki was forced down into the seat next to me, Barton clearly wanted to do some damage as he literally threw Loki down, causing him to snarl at the pain of the metal chairs coming into contact at a violent speed with his spine. I knew; the same had happened to me also.

"I don't want him near her." Stark had stopped pacing and was facing Barton with a face full of 'what the actual fuck' disbelief.

"Me either." I muttered, forcing my eyes to stare forward at nothing in particular.

Out of all the things that I actually thought I would see today, from dinosaurs to the Queen of England, Loki wasn't even on the negative side of the list. I wasn't prepared for an encounter with him at such an early time, but I remained calm nonetheless. I would just have to treat him as I had everyone else... He was no different from them, we were all enemies.

Or that's what I tried to convince myself. And failed.

Myself and Loki were prisoners here, that was enough for me to want him on my side, but I was majorly pissed off at every person I currently knew.

Barton rubbed his exhausted-looking face and turned to Stark, the black bags beneath his eyes ran deep and his pale skin caused a contrast, "Tony, we're running out of time. We need to make Amy or.. Him.. Talk. Unless.."

Stark stiffened at Barton's stutter of words, Barton shut his mouth, unable to form the sentence. I raised an eyebrow, what could possibly be so terrible that Barton was this desperate to make me talk? They weren't stupid, they knew it was a risk putting me with Loki. Fury was probably raging on the other side of the camera that was almost well-hidden within the table. I smiled at it, before letting my smile drop as my eyes wander back up.

They were truly desperate.

"Hello again." Loki drawled quietly with a sly smile on his face.

I looked at him for a moment before flicking my eyes elsewhere. Half of Loki's face was red and bruised, he also had a cut running through both his lips, from under his nose to his chin. I didn't plan on replying, but I found the perfect words to fit what I had to say to him.

"Oh, piss off." I returned.

I allowed myself to look at his cuffed hands that rest upon the table though he was sat back in the chair. They were wooden... And decorated with many symbols. Humans couldn't-

How? Were they restricting his magic? How the fuck?

Unless... Thor.

The only explanation was Thor. Not bad. I hadn't thought for one moment that Thor would have been capable of such betrayal. I was most certainly impressed. And slightly angered.

"If you two are finished," Barton started, repulsed by the slight interaction between the two criminals.

He held down whatever he was feeling, the toll was quite visible.

He stopped in front of the table to address us both, "Loki, you will pay for what you have done, I will ensure it." Barton spat the last part as he leaned over the table, before pushing himself backwards, "Amelia... You can still get out of this. Don't dig yourself a deeper grave to defend him."

"Oh Clint, when will you realise I do not give a shit?" I flicked my eyes up to meet his, an evil grin playing with the corner of my lips, "Must you act so brainless?"

Loki let out a small chuckle as Clint's cheeks burnt red, without another word, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. The bang forced me to close my eyes, I had fallen victim to a delightful hangover and so I let slip a small groan though my mouth was closed.

"Amelia-" Stark began again, and I opened one of my eyes to squint at him.

"Are you just going to question me to death or do you have other plans of action?" I opened both of my eyes again and raised an eyebrow.

"The Council have plans to torture you for information, Ameli-"

"Then let them." I interrupted, ignoring the fact that Loki leant forwards in his seat slightly, eyebrows furrowed at Stark's words as he studied every single move that Stark made.

"Because of him!" Stark exploded, pointing a finger at Loki who stiffened for a split second... Long enough for me to notice but not to question.

"Then let them." I repeated, my words unwavering.

"You will be charged as a criminal of war," He gave up, trying to use the facts against me.

The facts didn't scare me, if they were inevitable then why not toy with what you had left?

"You are the only family-"

My side pummelled pain up the length of my body, causing me to shoot forward and snap loudly, "You are no family of mine."

I gritted my teeth at the growing pain and glanced down at my now blood soaked shirt. I had scraped it on the table, knocking the remaining piece of glass further into my side, more so than it was already. I could feel it creating a deeper wound, the edges of vision soared white due to the pain and I blinked repeatedly until I could see again. Shit. That's not supposed to happen.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Loki take a quick glance down and widen his eyes a tad before pulling his eyes away to look at an oblivious Stark. Plans were forming within his head; I could tell as he neglected the world around him.

That was the Loki's ha-if-you're-not-on-my-side-you're-fucked face... I had so stupidly fallen victim to it more than once.

"Why must you side with him?!" Stark argued, in return I raised and dropped my shoulders, just to push him that little bit further.

"We have common enemies." I stared unblinking, my answer was the solid truth.

"He's a monster!" Stark snapped, trying to force a reaction from either me or Loki.

I could see Loki stare at me expectantly as he awaited my answer; but my answer was not what he expected. His sharp intake of breath that I managed to hear was my indication to that.

"Like I said, we have many things in common." I muttered, causing Stark to sigh.

Loki's eyebrows furrowed and he sat back in his chair. He looked slightly confused but his mannerism concluded...

He had a plan.


	16. Chapter 16

After many a self debate, it became clear amidst the lack of windows and musty undisturbed air that we were held so happily – sarcasm - underground. Location? Unknown. Mood status? Hateful. My reasons? These beds had never met a moment of comfort in their immaculate lives. I mean seriously, when I pictured myself dying, it was with more of a bang and less of a bore.

We were pleasantly led underground by a handful of uniformed soldiers who marched us in a slow and agonising pace throughout every corridor we had to pass down, I was convinced they even took a detour just to fuck us over all the more. They each held guns in their hands in a defending manor and all hopes for a combat escape decreased with every step. Not that I had plans of escape, I was most likely safer down here and I had a bruised god for company.

It was warm and humid, which left me undoubtedly exhausted. The food was also worse than that of a high deterrence prison, definitely not enough to maintain healthy long term.

Fury had overthrown Stark's interrogation... The Council had overthrown Fury's. Stark was pissed, Fury was pissed... Fury no longer had authority. The thought seemed like madness in my mind, who were The Council? In depth, other than a highly permitted power house? They had the jurisdiction to remove Fury albeit anything he had to say, I could see the scowl on his face when they took custody into their own hands.

A grip from Loki had somewhat healed the injury in my side and I almost punched him in anger.

"Don't worry, love," He had said as I was cuffed, he held up his cuffs to prove a point, "It won't be permanent."

I was temporarily healed, was that not brilliant?

I was full of sarcasm.

I had been thrown, quite literally, into a stereotypical cell. It was like a small, stone-walled, rectangular piece of land had been split down the middle by a range of bars. I was forced into one half, Loki the other. There was a small dirt path beyond the bars, and the one door we had taken into here was now out of sight due to the shape of the walls.

The cells highly lacked hygiene taking into consideration the blanket-less mattress in the corner of each cell. Each cell had a door that lead to a toilet and sink further back. I used the sink to cleanse myself as we had no such bathing facility, and I began to wonder if Loki ever even needed the toilet.

I sat upon the thin mattress, thanking the high heavens that it was clean, and pulled my knees to my chest to allow my head to rest upon my them.

Loki was sat with his back to the wall in a similar fashion to me, but he so gracefully neglected the mattress he had. They were uncomfortable, but they were far better than the stone floor we were placed upon.

His clothes were ripped, his hair was aghast, his eyes were sunken, his body bruised... He looked like he was recovering from a Hulk massacre. Once again.

"Come here." His voice cracked through the silence, and I lifted my head from atop my knees.

We could easily reach each other if I planned on moving closer to the bars... But the chance of me moving within arm's reach of Loki was unlikely. Not only was it because I enjoyed being a snide motherfucker who planned on maintaining that way, though they had stripped me of everything else, but every bone in my body hurt from the roughness of travel and the stiffness of this spring ridden mattress and I hadn't slept in at least two days.

Neither of us had seen natural and non-artificial light in days and the mood had one setting: Miserable or tense.

Conversation had been at an all time low due to no ability to even conjure such strength to argue with one another, but it was more my retaliations to a trying Loki.

Glowing cylinders ran along the top of the walls, letting out little light that my eyes had adjusted to. They reminded of me of glow sticks, except the light they let out was more white and they didn't look as nice.

I'd expect a high maintenance government conspiracy party to have more... Class. This was a cell where they most likely kept terrorists. Were we terrorists? Not the bomb-blowing HYDRA type, but the alien-guiding god type.

"No." I returned, daring to stare at the fallen god unblinking.

I had been staring at Loki's cuffs for the past half an hour. 'Simple' wooden cuffs could imprison a god?

The runes obviously meant something; they must have taken away his magic... Or something of the sort. They wouldn't be able to keep him within arm's reach if he had his magic.

He slouched further back into the wall at my rejection, beginning our long awaited conversation, "I'm not apologising."

"I'm not forgiving, princess." I retorted sarcastically.

I had no plans of escape and Loki evidently did... But he needed my assistance, and that was something I wasn't willing to give anymore. I had a fondness of the guy, but we were no longer partners in crime.

He narrowed his eyes at me in the short silence, awaiting an indication of the game I seemed to play. This was not a game, just a turn of the tables and the ball was in his court.

"Why act this way?"

"Isn't this fun?" I stated more than questioned in a sarcastic tone, one of my eyes narrowed a tad as I stared, "This time, you aren't the superiority. You can't get out of this on your lonesome, that is more than enough reasons for me to want to stick around. I find it most amusing."

"Amelia, if you just come-"

"No. I like this." I interrupted without care.

There was nothing he could do as of yet that would threaten me in any way and even if he did, something told me I would not care for the consequences in due time.

"You can't get out; you have no other options but to ask of my help. You love the sound of your own captivating voice, do you not? I'm almost certain of your entertainment, but you are pretty enough to stare at if you take a silent vow. But, if you plan on shutting up, I'd rather you do it now instead of later." I was having fun.

"I'm playing nice." He allowed his head to drop back against the wall revealing every inch of his pale neck, which had red and blue bruises on both sides and I forced my mind to stay confined, the brutal fight he was involved in had caused this; he wasn't healing.

But that was not my problem... Or I at least would not let it become my problem.

"Aw, does your helplessness upset you?" I let out an airy, taunting laugh.

My throat was dry and the rations of water they had given us sat in front of my cell untouched. It was in arms length but I chose to ignore it; I was curious on how my captors would react if I refused the little food and drink they offered... After all, they can't interrogate if I'm dead. Or maybe they could, these people were the life of S.H.I.E.L.D, anything was possible.

"Stop." He said steadily, leaving his head helplessly where it was.

His hair hung around his face, but the shadows in the dim light played with his cheekbones making them look all the more defined... Or that could be the lack of food, either way, his cheekbones were miraculously visible.

"Don't be foolish enough to say something that you may later regret."

I raised my eyebrow at the calm of the atmosphere, "Apparently it makes you collected."

"Listen to me!" His sudden raise in voice made me jump but I quickly returned back to my usual self, his eyes were now glaring at me with a helpless rage.

He was angry at me; it's about time that I uncovered some distinct rage within him. It was an oddity that he had remained calm due to the unfortunate circumstances. But how had he allowed himself to become seized by such morons? Now he was as powerless as me, yet he still tried to overpower the ongoing situation.

"Your presumptuous and conceited self no longer has the authority to tell me what to do." I boasted into the growing darkness; that was usually an indication that it was getting dark outside so that our brains knew how to react to the time of day.

At least they had the clockworks of our body's in mind, not much more could be said about the lack of nutritional food.

"You have no power down here, especially with those fancy cuffs." I allowed a small half-smile to grow on my face as I taunted him further, "I need some of those for when you show signs of breaking another leg in a withhold from matter of speech."

"Do you wish to remain stranded down here?" He pushed himself up only to stumble forwards at the stiffness in all joints, luckily managing to catch himself on the rusting bars of the cell.

Part of me urged to rush to the rescue, but I forced myself to remain haste, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I had a small sense of concern. He ignored the whole ordeal as he let himself fall onto the mattress, laying on his back to stare at the blank ceiling.

"Scared of a little torture?" My voice lacked the sarcasm I had intended to pursue, but it was the underlying truth of The Council, both Barton and Stark had stated it, and so it would most likely happen, with or without the information they intended to withdraw.

"Your human tools will barely scratch my surface. You, on the the other hand..." He trailed off.

If my senses were true to me, I saw his face scrunch in a little wince, as if knowing what future torture awaited, this was not the first time Loki had been in line for torture, but only a little section of my brain wanted to divulge into what extent it had been.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn't scared of the torture, but it didn't mean I was overly fond of it, either.

"I can handle little cuts and bruises."

"It will not be cuts and bruises!" He snapped, pushing himself upwards and growling in pain as he turned to aim his rage towards me. "They won't give up until they get what they want from you. They won't stop, even after they have torn every strip of whatever humanity you contain from the core of who you are!"

His reaction was not one that I expected. He was warning me of the future days; he was telling me that I had to relieve information, unless it would never end. But I was to be considered a war criminal. In what war? Stupidity against intelligence?

If that was to happen then so be it, but I was not going to allow them to penetrate my mind and soul, even with their fancy equipment and lack of remorse.

"Even so, why would I tell them anything?" I said softly.

"To get yourself out of this mess." He stated simply as he leant back against the wall, this time, his legs were crossed beneath him. Was there even anything to tell? "Just come here" He tried one last time.

"Are you still a prince?" I ignored his demand and changed the subject.

The lights had stopped getting darker, and I could only make out the faint outline of Loki's sharp features and the small glint of green within his eyes. I lacked understanding of the colour within his eyes, and it seemed everyone else also did for I would have my answers by now.

He sighed, closing his green orbs for eyes, "I was not stripped of my title."

I allowed myself to slip into silence and Loki didn't question it as he fell into slumber. I remained staring at the ceiling for days to come, the emptiness in my stomach was ever growing and Loki's eyes were ever growing with concern. Nobody had dramatically appeared to threaten me on a nonsensical level for not accepting their poor offers of food. They just watched on the not-very-well hidden cameras, they hadn't cautioned us, they had done nothing but leave food and water... And we didn't even see them do that. They just watched, which made me feel highly uncomfortable.

Loki was eating, but they had to do something if I didn't... Right? The pangs of hunger were nothing compared to the thirst that clawed its way up my throat screaming for a liquid sense. A week is survivable without water; a month is survivable without food and plenty of water... I needed to strike something within them. I had been here 5 days and I couldn't move my eyes without a drill of pain behind my eye sockets. Loki was looking the same as previous days... If not better. The food was looking better today; it looked like edible fruit and veg, my nutritional slates of thought must have worked its way to them. The water percentage had dramatically increased from half a glass to a small bottle... To a massive bottle.

These were their efforts to get me to eat.

And if I refused? I awaited their reply to the message I was sending. I was doing pretty well, until Loki decided to speak once again... Why, Laufeyson, why?

He studied me through the bars from upon his mattress, "Is the food not to your liking?"

I remained silent.

"Amelia. Just eat it." He tried again, the demand in his voice growing, "I'm not going to just sit here whilst you starve to death. Even if the liable food is the opposite of appeasing."

I raised my eyebrow, letting out a small breath; that was all I could manage to push my effort into in my fragile state.

"Eat the god damn food or so help me I will shove each bite down your throat." His voice had returned to its normality but the bruises and cuts remained, I was growing more suspicious of the runes as the days continued.

I groaned agitatedly and hauled myself to the side of the cell, my stomach was burning with long passed hunger and I slowly started to regret my foolish plans of starvation. It only made me weak. They just watched. The whole act of giving into them and obeying Loki made me feel defeat to my very core.

I was also angry at the humans on the other side of the camera, they were supposed to show their faces instead of forcing me into such acts of strike.

"Fucking gods." I huffed as I sipped my water.

Pushing my body into regularity was going to be unpleasantly painful... It was my fault for trying to force superior idiots into showing their damn faces. As soon as I finished, I threw my bottle onto the tray and pushed it to the bars. I was slightly embarrassed, per se, but considerably confused at Loki's demands of my well being.

Nobody asked him to care.

"That was not all too difficult." He said once I sat back down on the mattress, "They are most likely discussing my need to tell you to eat. What a mystery it is."

I looked up with my face blank to be greeted with his familiar smirk, which comforted me as I allowed myself to sink against the wall. My stomach made random noises of hysteria and the pain was boldly abrupt. I was no stranger to pain, it barely effected me as of yet. I put my hand to my stomach in means of protest to the pain. Things would have been so much better if I hadn't tried to smart myself put of the situation. I had the disadvantage this time; I had little knowledge of the situation whereas they had much... They had the advantage which I usually intended on stealing first.

"Amelia," He began as he pushed himself onto both feet and walked nearer to my cell, "I know you are in favour of ignoring my help, and you make haste of helping me."

I looked up at him and sighed agitatedly. No shit. He was telling me things that I already knew... I'll most likely curse my stubbornness in future preferences for rejecting his help. But right now... I wanted to stay. Part of me wanted the torture out of plain curiosity, another part of me knew I deserved it.

"This is my last offer," He informed, sitting down where he stood and opening his arms in a motion, "Accept it now or I shall leave you to get yourself out of a mess that is far too deep to escape."

"A god once told me," I said hoarsely, coughing to clear my throat in its high misuse, "I should get myself out of messes that I managed to get myself into. I did try to leave, but it followed me and bit me right on the ars-"

"Okay, I see where this is going." He interrupted my informal necessity with his perfectly pronounced words of wisdom, "Then I shall get myself out of this mess. Somehow. I cannot remove these cuffs myself for reasons you must have already deduced."

That night I slept with a little more comfort and the pains in my stomach began to dim with familiarity. But of course, I didn't sleep long before awaking into consistent silence. The lights were fairly dim, they cast but little glow upon both wall and ceiling which caused harsh shadows to appear in the corners.

The air seemed different like the dust particles chose to settle differently.

Nothing had changed within my eyesight. Loki was still sprawled on his mattress and I was laid in a similar position. He was visibly breathing, that was also a good sign.

I glanced up at the runes that were on the roof of my cell... Either I had been blatantly naive or they had not been there the previous day. They were too similar to those on Loki's cuffs for my liking. Magic restricting... But why would they be in my cell instead of his... So that he couldn't assist me like he had in sparing me of starvation. They thought I could be considered a weakness to him. How laughable. His cell was seemingly bare... The cuffs had comforted them to an extent. Which was also laughable. Simple cuffs wouldn't stop the gods mind running rampage with plans.

"I was never the most social of children." I heard him say as I moved my eyes to meet his.

I could imagine.

My mind jumped from the runes on the ceiling to the words that left his mouth. He was probably the miserable child who corrected others in simple grammar; I could imagine it thoroughly. A small framed, dark haired, pale skinned child, sitting out from a group of friends, a scowl on his face as he listened to their stupidity.

"I'd accompany Frigga, a mother of sort, to the other realms. Most frequently when she visited Alfheim. The Elves of Light were far more intriguing than the likes of Thor, it was in my interest to escape Aesir's whilst I could."

I listened intently to his history lesson, trying to grasp a possible time frame of how long ago his words intended. Years? Decades?  
Centuries?

"She'd be delighted, as long as I remained within her company due her arrival in Vanaheim, land to her brother." He continued as he realised my whole stature had raised at this sudden amusement, "I was accepted in Vanaheim as a son of magic, such a rare sight to behold. A male with magic. How Odin hated that."

I saw his arm lift as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear; I wanted nothing more than to be sat in that cell beside him as he spoke each word. He had also grown bored in the silence, neither of us were the silent type but I'd been feeling under the weather as of late.

"I still lived for my visits upon Alfheim. Elves are magical creatures, formed from the most ancient branches of magic; they have the ability to create other beings like themselves, but much more smaller, and derived from the purest of the elves magic." He chuckled to himself as if recalling long forgotten memories of amusement, and I ached to see the worlds that he spoke so highly about.

"I think your kind refer to them as faeries, though they differ from what you would think. They're range no more than a couple of inches tall to the length of say... A human forearm."

In response I held up my arm to study it. A being so small... They sounded mischievously intriguing. And elves... Christmas elves? They were the only elves known to me, a child's dream and a fiction of thought.

"Faeries... They can be tremendously devouring of your happiness if they find no fondness with you. Elves are tall beings with the purest of elegance. I am unsure as to whether or not they still take refuge on Midgard, but many centuries ago they thrived here. Unseen to the human eye if they wish to not be seen, they are most cunning." He grinned up at me through the darkness, as I snapped open my eyes, not realising they had closed to allow my imagination to run wild, "But I'm almost certain they'd like you which is most worrying. I remember when I stumbled upon a Faerie branch when I escaped from the annual hunt that consisted of Sif and The Warriors Three, one became tangled in Thor's hair."

I couldn't help but snort at the image of Thor with a small creature thing with pointy ears hanging from his hair with a huge smile plastered on its face. Thor, with his large hands of stone, could not possibly untangle it-

"Frigga had to cut his hair, the writhing of the damn thing had made it impossible to untangle it. Thor was most embarrassed, he had mighty locks that had been reduced to the bottom of his neck. He just would not stop complaining at how stupid he looked. Nobody, of course, told him how stupid he looked. Heir to the throne of Asgard, no one would dream of such war," Loki was no longer smiling, but he wasn't frowning yet, either.

His lips sat in a straight line, but there was a slight light in his eyes that told me he wasn't angered nor saddened by the memories.

"In return, to comfort him and be the astounding bro-" He stopped a moment, retracing the words in his head.

He was unsure if calling Thor his brother was a liable phrase, I understood wholeheartedly. I referred to Stark as uncle occasionally but rejected the idea of family.

"Being the astounding person I am, I agreed to have my wonderful hair cut to the same length as Thor's. He begged me not to, but it was not hard to derive from the new found happiness that had grown in his eyes. Hair is a respected thing among men on Asgard... Though magic is not. Men had beards the length of their hair, it was something to be proud of." He continued, leaving out the use of 'brother'. "He had said "You would do such a thing? For me? Brother, I could not have a better friend by my side. But your beautiful hair is far more elegant... We shall start again. Together. You and me, always." And I had laughed, we had both laughed."

I watched as Loki closed his eyes for only a split second longer than a blink, but the conclusion was loud and clear; the nostalgia of that memory was both positive and negative. Thor and he had been great friends, and now? Now Loki despised the very ground Thor walked upon, he had stabbed him once, not long ago, if I recalled correctly.

"The faeries hated Thor, they mocked him; he was not present amidst the mockery of course. You see, he was large, heavy handed and rather blasphemous with no cares for words that he spoke. They loved me." I saw his slight wink through the bars and I rolled my eyes in return, "It's hard not to."

I couldn't bring myself to speak if I tried, my words would never be a match for his. I did what I did best, and that was observe. That was the first of three stories Loki spoke of that night, another consisted of Thor's lack of ability to do his own hair, though it was simple to see that he wanted to avoid the subject of Thor. It was rather difficult concerning they had grown up together.

"I came to earth on few occasions, when I first visited; you fools were not worth the effort to simply communicate." His smile turned mocking as he finished his food and slid it away from him, "I assure you it was not all that long ago."

A small fact had unearthed itself in my mind concerning the Aesir worth, they had the means of advancement and being the superior race to the rest of the eight realms. But humans were not all that stupid. They had magic. We had science. Science that we had to deduce ourselves without the help of magic, we had to create a phone to simply communicate and planes to travel where foot could not.

"I met someone, though. My learning mind had been intrigued by simple habitats and vastness of other races. That's why you'll understand I was most confused when I met a lady." He recalled.

The learner had become the teacher, I was now learning things that he had the means of teaching.

"She was of Svartalfheim, home of the Dark Elves. Svartalheim is a gateway of sort, as Midgard is with Asgard. Except, it links to somewhere far more dangerous; Helheim. An underworld of sort. Or as you people somehow managed to misinterpret entirely, Hell. Not as you would imagine it, it is home to many creatures... Of which you never want to meet."

He sighed as he pushed his hair out of his face, "Thor and I travelled there once. It was a dangerous journey that almost resulted in both our deaths, I had used large amounts of my magic to safely return us home with the help of Heimdall. We needed an antidote. Sif had been poisoned by a Dark Elf in means of infiltrating Asgard, which Thor almost resurrected a long dead war in revenge. Which is where I return to the woman I met, you need not know more. She had taken refuge from the wrecks of Svartalheim, still unrecovered from a war long forgotten. It was survival of the fittest, and oh my, she was easily surviving."

He paused for a moment, "Their ruler is unknown to almost everyone but myself and Odin; Malakeith. She highly disagreed with his ways of destruction."

I was laid on my back, my fingers entwined on my stomach as I thought on. Would I ever leave this cell? Would I ever leave Earth? Would I ever meet an elf? I wondered how frantic Thor was. He would not react well to the hiding of his brother, and I'd like to think he would take into consideration my health also.

"She taught me many things, that in turn, you will learn. They're the mere facts of life, and for if we ever leave this damned cycle, they will help you." He concluded, his tone beginning to soften. "My words fill this silence and you are correct, Ms Stark, I do love the sound of my own voice."

I chuckled a little, the days were growing increasingly boring and we had not heard anything from our captors. I had lost track of the days spent rotting in this cell and I didn't want to know how I looked. They had given us a change in clothes, but Loki remained in his godly gear.

I coughed before speaking, to clear my throat of its lodge in silence, "If we survive, you're buying me dinner, none of your wise-ass speeches, either."

The smile returned to his face almost instantly and he bowed his head mockingly, "Where would you like to dine?"

"Can you cook?" I asked in seriousness, there was no point in eating with him if he was a terrible cook. I was fond of food, I had learnt.

"I am not Thor." He snorted obviously.

"So.."

"I am an excellent cook." He stated straight faced.

I could see him in a kitchen, chopping things at the speed of light. The sceptre he once used was now changed for a kitchen knife, lethal against food but not to the extent of his weapon.

"Dinner for two, reservation in space." I grinned.

We had grown bored; we were immature in that sense.

He opened his arms in question, "And what food pleases your fancy?"

"Ever had pizza?" I tilted my head to the side to study his reaction, he raised his eyebrows and thought a moment before replying.

"What in Valhalla is that?" He drawled out mockingly.

"What on earth is Valhalla?" I countered.

"Valhalla is-"

"Forget I said it, I don't need any more of your wise words in my life. I've had enough to last me the length of your lifetime, never mind mine." I interrupted; trying not to laugh as he scowled at me, suppressing the laugh caused me to scrunch up my nose.

"Valhalla is referred to in a spiritual sense like you and your curse words." He grumbled to himself, ignoring another one of my snorts, but this just caused me to laugh.

"Pizza is great." I nodded with a smile after I had stopped laughing.

"Pizza it is." He returned.

"Can I try alien alcohol?" I asked, was there such a thing?

Obviously it would be called something much different, but Loki didn't slaughter my nickname for it as of yet.

His reply was almost instant, "No."

"Why?" I whined.

What could be so bad about alien alcohol? It was most likely made from berries that some worm had to eat and react with-

I had no idea where that was going, I just concluded that I was extremely tired and alien alcohol was something I would try before I died.

"Far too strong." He grinned, but his mannerism had changed.

His words were short, he was not speaking of the thoughts on his mind, only those on the tip of his tongue. "It is most exquisite."

I couldn't help but snicker, that was madness. "You underestimate Stark potential."

"There is much wine on Asgard. Would that be appeasing?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips but he fought it down in his efforts to convince me otherwise.

"Boring." I let out like a small child.

Wine was not all that nice to my beaten taste-buds, in my time, I had probably devoured enough of the poison to build a high resistance. Or at least you would think, last week's events were... No words could possibly fit what that was. "Are there more creatures – races - than just the nine realms?"

"A universe full."

"Undiscovered by us." Because humans were imbecilic and empty-headed, we would not know of life beyond earth if it were not for Thor appearing amidst New Mexico.

"That is the case."

"Do they know of us?" That would be a worry for the likes of S.H.I. , who planned on protecting the world from the likes of gods. Hence Fury's excuse for phase two.

"Yes. They overestimate your abilities. Earth is young; the human population is a slow growing race, new within the universe." He dictated, if the earth was young, then what the hell was everything else? I made a mental note to ask Loki of the big bang, adding a description to explain its childish title.

"How old are you?" I asked suddenly, the question had been one that never interested me.

But what else would pass the time?

"Creatures can be thrown out of the nine realms, like Malakeith. They become part of The Outcast and resolve in the darkest depths of the universe, where no soul shall wonder unless they plan on no return. It's the Alcatraz of the outer dimension." He ignored my question to continue with his wisom words.

That's what I was calling it now. He also made a modern reference. I would high five someone, but underground and loneliness... So I chose to ignore it and continue on my own travels.

"You must be at least a couple of hundred years old." I thought aloud.

"There is a tavern on the outskirts of the darkness." He spoke like he had been there before – he probably had, "You have to be a fighter to stay out of trouble, and by trouble I mean death. You'd fit right in."

"Seven hundred?" I guessed.

He grew agitated but continued nonetheless, "They'd welcome you. The first human to willingly abandon their own race, my my, that is a title to uphold."

I remained silent. Dick move. Those words were very abrupt, but was that not the truth... By agreeing to leave everything and everyone I knew behind, was I not betraying the rest of humanity? Somehow, I found it difficult to care, I wouldn't blink an eye at the chance to leave.

"Much too old for you" He finally broke the silence causing my heart to stop.

Since when were innuendos like that a common courtesy for the likes of Loki? Who had mentioned anything along the lines of such absurdity?

"Is that so?" I quirked an eyebrow, out blatantly confused by his statement.

I still had no indication of his age. He didn't reply to what I had asked, but instead stared. His eyes devoured me, but I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"Happy birthday, Amelia." His words caused the furrow of my eyebrows and the racing of my mind.

It was, indeed, my birthday. My day of birth. I was twenty years old. Happy birthday to me.

"A tavern you say?" I asked.

"Somewhat."

"Alien alcohol?" I hoped.

"Pretty cheap." He made a suggesting face and I straightened my back at the dreams I had.

And then I realised – It was comfort talk. Our talk had been merely to comfort one another, like that of children amidst a war zone.

"If you take me there, I'll forgive you." I tried.

"I owe you nothing."

"Well you're a 'too old for me' god who happened to be my partner in crime. You broke my leg; we brought down a S.H.E.I.L.D base." I smiled at the memories.

Our crime-reeking memories were one to behold.

"Does it look like I care?" He retorted causing me to snicker momentarily.

"Sassy." I insulted, watching his smile grow, "You can pay."

He still insisted on being the more dominant of us both, but we were both stubborn at that, how did we possibly survive in one another's company?

"Who says we're going anywhere?"

"I do." It was my turn to take hold.

"And your means of travel?" He inquired like that of a travel agent.

"Why you, of course." I stated like it was the most obvious thing yet to be discovered. He scowled at me through the metal bars and I laughed. "Are you a typical drunk?"

"I do not get drunk." He rolled his eyes.

I smiled sweetly, "We'll see."

"No, we won't."

"I bet Thor can handle his alcohol better than you." There was a moment of silence after my words and I began to consider that I had crossed a line.

"We'll see." He stated.

And that is how you convince a god to take you to a dangerous bar, I was most definitely holding him to his words. We fell into silence as the lights dimmed evermore and I lowered myself down onto the mattress. I stretched and made a note to exercise the following day, I had been cramped up for far too long. I would look like a fool for jogging on the spot, but I think that barrier with Loki is now long abolished.

The hours ticked by and I couldn't force myself into sleep, I laid with my eyes open and thought about the world above. Where were we in terms of city? Country? Hell, was this even Earth? I thought about Loki and possible reasons of his capture, and then I thought of the lives he may have once taken. Not that he cared for sentiment.

I was laid on my back with my eyes on the roof, but I spoke anyway, unknowing if he was even awake.

"How many skeletons do you have in your closet?"

"Many." He replied un-expectantly, did he even sleep?

"Too many?" I continued.

"There's room for more." He informed.

It could have been a threat, if it was not for the fact he would have already killed me. I hoped his plans didn't include me rotting and joining the skeletons he already kept, though I wasn't scared of dying. That much was obvious from the recent events in my life. I didn't yet plan on dying, also evident on recent events.

I didn't want it to be at Loki's betrayal. No.

I didn't yet know why, but the answer scared me. My mind was that 2 am fuzzy mess that you couldn't help but divulge into.

"Don't put me in your closet," I said quietly, part of me hoping he hadn't heard it.

I could be pathetic, if I really tried.

"Don't make me." He ended and I left the subject alone.


	17. Chapter 17

The day – if it was, in fact, day time - had started as normal as a day concerning both I and the trickster could be; though conversation remained low yet humorous as we both pondered upon our chances of ever escaping the heavily guarded cell on own own accord. The events that occurred in the next few hours were blurred as much as they were rushed. When I began the day as usual, I really thought the day would end somewhat... Normal. We were being held captive in a secret underground base in god-knows-where awaiting god-knows-what.

Oh how wrong I could be, even on my best of days.

Two men dressed in the usual green army attire made a wave of noise as they entered the room, their guns raised and aimed into my cell. It was evident they weren't English, it was either because they legitimately looked foreign, or it may have been the fact they weren't speaking English. I didn't so much freeze upon this happening, too many things had fucked up in my life for any sense of surprise to take hold when my life was threatened; I just raised an eyebrow as they decided to demand something from me in a language I could not understand.

They did realise I didn't speak every language... Right?

They repeated something and wavered their guns at me again over-dramatically to prove a point and I furrowed my eyebrows and repeated that I couldn't understand them. They could at least do me the courtesy of understanding me, considering they were the ones responsible for my presence here.

"Opstaan!" Is all I could make out from the vomit of words they fired at me, and yet they still urged their guns forward, they were most likely new to the job, easy enough to take down if I pleased, but in all honesty, it was interesting to see a face that was not Loki's.

"They are demanding that you get down on your knees with your hands in the air." Loki informed, his eyebrows were also furrowed as he studied the two men silently.

I glanced at Loki as my heart jumped a beat, I guessed it was time for them to deal my cards; we had been neglected in here long enough, the anticipation should have been torture enough but I was not one to ponder when I could be enjoying myself, and talking about alien alcohol was most definitely interesting.

I obliged to what they had said nonetheless, and pushed my dignity to the side as I dirtied my knee caps on the sand-like floor. Loki was stood not far from the bars and he looked... Helpless and on edge, he was ready to pounce though he knew there was nothing he could possibly due, his eyes jumped to me almost frantically and I gave him a small smile, and I didn't know whether or not it was to comfort him or me.

I had not known he was capable of such things and yet here we were, learning new things as the days progressed, there was a somewhat sentiment to the situation, I wondered how many lives the men had taken, and if they were ruthless killers or felt remorse for the lives that they had taken. I wondered if they earned their pay, or they were just more pieces of cardboard in another useless jigsaw.

"Turn around," Loki added, before sealing his lips shut.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye on something small in my chest hoped so dearly this wasn't the last time that I would be seeing him. The days we had spent together in this prison had been boring at times, but we had enjoyed each other's company as well as learning so much about each other. His eyes remained wide and his fists – still cuffed – were clenched as he stepped towards the bars and raised his arms slightly. He started saying something to the other men in the foreign language, it wasn't quite begging, it sounded more like bargaining on my behalf and I cursed myself for not finding the time to become multilingual, if I could maybe swear or taunt them a little, I would be relatively more happy.

I was also oblivious to the fact that Loki could speak more than one language – it was just something that had never crossed my mind; was English his natural language or did Asgardian's have their own speech? I hoped I lived long enough to find out. Irrelevant things were usually pushed from my mind anyhow, but this past week – or weeks... Or months – had been a blur. Usually, like now for instance, irrelevant things would be released in my mind, it was like a distraction from a burn.

The soldiers hushed Loki with a simple bark of words and Loki's shoulders slumped in defeat

Don't you dare give up on me, Loki Laufeyson.

I had no other choice but to turn and stare at the wall as I forced myself to take a steady breath in with my eyes closed, my back facing them. I felt vulnerable and unaware in this position and Loki's eyes literally burned through me, but I was left with no choice considering I was one of two prisoners, I was somewhat glad they had chosen to take me first, I was unsure of how I would react to feeling so helpless. I gasped slightly as my head was pushed towards the wall as they cuffed me harshly, caring not if they hurt me, I couldn't help but growl and be the difficult person I was raised to be. I allowed my arms to lock in position until I was finally yanked to my feet with such a force I thought for a split second that my shoulder had been dislocated.

I tried to keep my eyes focused on my friend as I was 'led' from the room. I did like to consider myself and the god to be friends to a certain extent considering the maniac was all I had left. I lost him from sight as I was pushed away, but I heard him curse one last time as he hit something with his cuffed fists in anger. I wanted to say something cocky and snide, something that could somewhat comfort the gods anger... But nothing left my dry mouth but a small growl aimed at the two men on either of my shoulders.

I couldn't say how many locked doors we passed through, or how many times I was searched, or how many security gates I was unwillingly dragged beyond, all I could say was that this was...

Well, this was it. I gradually grew frustrated with walking and no talking, it seemed the soldiers were trained not to talk and I was unsure if they understood me, which was all the more fun when it came to my part but as we slowed down to a final room, I knew this was the end of our journey.

The jump at the end of the plank, the torture at the end of a small cell sentence. I wasn't scared, but I felt a bubble of anger that was ready to burst.

When they - tried to - changed my clothes by force; that was when my little bubble of growing anger burst.

Or more so... Exploded.

It was in the heat of the moment – as all the best moments were - and I was unsure of who hit the ground first as I fought both the men head on, finally taking advantage of the way they thought themselves superior to this small girl frame I was situated within. It was dealt with in a similar manor to that of Loki's guards, but these soldiers went down with a lot more ease than that of Loki's...

Typical humans.

The thought of Loki turned my stomach upside down, were they torturing him? Why had they taken me yet left him with no instruction?

Had they taken him?

But I was unsure of what I was supposed to do in situations like these, there was no rule book or knowledge briefing upon this; I was in a small room with two unconscious guards in an unknown room with an unknown location and I was half dressed. I felt violated in more than one way, they had tried to strip me bare and dress me in something more suitable for, most probably, their wonderful ways of torture. How dare they; it was humanely wrong on more than one level to violate me in such a way and man, I was angry.

I was fucking thriving.

I pulled on my black shorts and plain black shirt – I was a colourful flower - and picked up both of their large guns and booted the door back open.

I must admit, the scene I had created was pretty badass, and so you must understand my disappointment when beyond the door stood an army of men with a selection of guns raised at me. I considered the thought of firing at them for the hell of it, caring not if each of their guns ripped me to shreds, but that would have been the easy way out.

Death was always the easy way out and I had to stay; I had to fight.

"Fuck." I commented as I dropped the guns in defeat, they hit the floor with an echoing clatter and I stared unblinkingly.

I was hauled – my feet were no longer on the floor – down a separate corridor by two men that must have been at least 6"7 feet tall. The corridor was dark and there were small, dim lights dotted in random places, some of which barely worked right whilst others flickered.

I stood no chance, and yet it still felt so wrong to surrender completely. There was nothing I could do but snarl in means of communication, I threw kicks and punches, I tried to scratch and apparently their skin was impenetrable as I tried to bite one of their large hands that was bigger than the two of mine put together. It merely phased them and their black-on-black uniforms, they were also bald and I was certain that they most likely had many tattoos. These were some sort of special ops team, or agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, but I knew they weren't just soldiers, they had an air about them; they acted too high and mighty, they knew what awaited me at the end of the corridor.

Most likely the latter.

This was the point of no return for I chose to shut my mind as well as my eyes, I would not scream. I would not give them the satisfaction of breaking me.

**Loki's P.O.V**

Loki was un-phased when they came for him; he was very expectant and very prepared, though he put up no fight. What he had not been prepared for was the taking of Amelia before himself, it was always a possibility; anything was a possibility when your fate lay in such fool's hands. Loki prayed that he would not hear her scream, she was strong, and for her to scream would be for her to crack..

She should have just told them everything they had wanted to know.

He had hoped for the former, he had hoped he would be taken first; he was the worldwide threat, was he not? This made the humans all the more petty if they saw him as their biggest threat, for they knew not of the more power crazed worlds that stared down upon this one, watching and waiting - waiting for the right moment to step forward and claim war upon humanity.

If the other worlds beyond the nine realms had knowledge of Earth's vulnerability then Earth would become a wasteland, a no-man land between barons of war; a world caught within the crossfire of a fight for power. Despite Loki caring not for the health of the Earth, he still had a few select things that ceased his wishes on such things.

Firstly, he did not wish to see Asgard destroyed, he may hate the people upon it, but it was still his home where he had spent much of his life, he also had one or two people there that still mattered to him, though it be little, it would be unlike him to abandon those who were his friends. Secondly, there was Pandora. It may have been centuries ago that they had last spoken, but she was still in his debt and she was still a friend, and Loki didn't have many friends. That was what he needed, of course, fewer and more loyal friends were far better than many, untrustworthy friends who feared discovery.

And lastly, there was Amelia. He wouldn't sit back and let her burn with the world she so heavily despised.

Nothing could have prepare him for the taking of Amelia before himself; it wasn't right, it didn't make sense. All he could do was stand there an watch after their days of captivating conversation, all he could do was stare helplessly as they jolted her around like a mere rag doll. He had never felt so hopeless before in his life. They had made him watch as they dragged her away; they showed him how useless he was with those damn cuffs suffocating each breath he tried to take.

What Loki had not expected, was their instruments for torture. He cursed himself as he remembered Amora's involvement on Earth, but her knowledge being in such mortal's hands meant one thing – she was aiding them, them being The Council. Her plan could be anything from world domination to revenge, but Loki knew there was a far vaster plan where she was involved, and of course, it involved him and her obsession with the two sons of Asgard.

They had taken from him his cuffs, but in return, the dentist style chair he was strapped into had the same runes he had grown to hate; they were formed from Amora's knowledge. Or Thor's, but a small part of him begged for that to not be the case. No matter what the instruments of torture turned out to be, he would heal in due time, as long as the damn runes allowed it.

The only piece of the torture that caused him to grit his teeth in pain had been the heat. S.H.I.E.L.D had no knowledge of his Frostgiant relation, and Thor had never seen his true form; he would never allow it.

He couldn't give him the satisfaction of-

He hissed in pain as the metal bar of intense heat penetrated his chest, he could hear the sizzle of his own skin... He could smell his own flesh burn. He could feel the small metal rod exit through his back. He would not allow them to make him suffer for a long extended time. The first mistake they had already made without realising it; as soon as the cuffs were removed, his magic started to slowly return, and meaning in a matter of hours he may be able to heal himself and cause more damage than they could handle.

This, the torture, was a continuous cycle of seeing how long it took certain materials to completely burn through him. Loki had only ever experienced such pain once before, heat to a Frostgiant was like a magnifying glass to an ant, it never ended well. Loki was the type to bite back, but they soon figured out how to deal with his writhing on the table.

They dug a nail through his upper arm, missing the bone but only slightly, and pinning him to the table with it. They then did it to his other arm and heated the nails – metal conducts heat, and the pain was a soaring lash that would not allow Loki from its grip.

He previously had no plans to take down The Council or S.H.I.E.L.D, but in that moment, he promised himself he would, for he had slipped into his Jotun form and the pain was too strong for him to shift back into his usual facade. He never wanted to be seen this way, to be seen so vulnerable and bare, to be seen for who he really was. Nobody should see him like this, and that is why he promised to kill each and every person within the room who had laid eyes upon him.

The day ended and he was pulled back into a cell lined with runes, though he was somehow unsurprised by the discovery. This cell was different from the previous one but it was larger, and this is where the day's events caught back up with him as his path once again crossed Amelia's and for some reason he so desperately wished that it hadn't.

He was no longer in the self-restricting cuffs, he let out a sigh of relief as he felt his body breath finally, not caring how loud it sounded. The pain he felt was bearable, but it had not been bearable a mere hour beforehand. He could feel his skin knit itself back together and watched the bruises on his arms fade as he shifted back into his usual form.

His line of thought was soon broken in two when another body was forced into the room.

Amelia was heaved into the room by two men that were far stronger and almost twice her height, but Loki made no comment on the ordeal, he more so stared as her lifeless body dropped into a pile in front of him and they left without a word. The men weren't the men that had lead her away, they were satisfied with the mess they had created. One of them smirked at Loki as his jaw had opened slightly upon seeing Amelia's lifeless body.

His heart jumped and his hands trembled as he jumped to his feet and moved towards her body as the doors shut, he fell to his knees beside her limp form and pulled her head into his lap as he checked for a pulse; she had to be alive, for they would not end things this quickly, they were too snide and planning, they brought people to the brink of who they were, that was their plan and so far, they were living up to their reputation.

His tense body relaxed as he felt the faint beat of her heart, more delayed than it should have been. He searched every inch of her body for any indication of why she had passed out; there was no extensive blood loss and her head lacked a wound that would cause unconsciousness. She wouldn't have just... Fainted. That was not the Amelia he knew.

It frustrated him that he could find no major way in which they had hurt her, he just wanted to know if they had done to her what they had done to him and he so desperately prayed that they had not, she didn't deserve such things, she was...

She could be delicate.

Her breathing was disrupted as her lungs forced out simple air. She had bruises on each of her limbs that were purple and red and some were blistered and raised from the skin, she had imprints on her chest where they had attached cables to – Loki shuddered at the thought – electrocute her, but something didn't feel right.

He pulled them both to the corner of the room so he could ease the constant pain in his back where they had-no, he was not going to think about what happened within that room, his thoughts spreading in too many directions. She was gone far longer than him; she may have been gone for more than ten hours...

Whereas he was gone for just half of that time, the things they could have done to her... Loki clenched his fists and his teeth ground against each other due to habit, anger tore through him and he wanted to rip those men limb from limb, for it was most likely them that had done such things to her. They knew he was stronger and so they focused on the weakness; she was not a weakness, she was just the weaker.

Loki had largely surprised himself, but the time with Amelia in the cell had changed them both, they had grown accustomed to waking up each day in shitty standards with no clean air and frustration, they had both witnessed each other at their lowest moments and they had both learnt derivable secrets.

It appeared that she had passed out from the pain before they had managed to get a word from her, and he couldn't help but smile and shake his head slightly, he was no longer sweating and his hair hung around his shoulders loosely. She was stubborn – he already knew this – but she had proven herself more worthy to him than he thought possible.

Loki wasn't stupid, he knew as soon as he laid eyes on her that she had interesting characteristics and definitely inherited the infamous Stark trait, but she was human. He learned long ago that no matter what goal a human had, they were still human, and that won above all else. There was always a deeper, more selfish need; a thrive for power, a lust for something, a happy ending.

That was where the heroes faltered, they would die protecting their home, and so more often than not, they died.

Mortality always beat the human, but there was always something about Amelia. Sure, she was selfish, but in a different way to what you'd expect – she wanted clearance, freedom, escapism. She wanted to leave this world behind and explore the next; she wanted to learn of the superior races and cared not for her humanity.

Most explorers planned on survival for knowledge, she would rather die learning that knowledge.

Loki felt a long lost comfort as he tucked the strands of her hair behind her ear, he could do nothing more than stare down on her pale features and hold her against her small trembles that occurred once every ten minutes as though she was having a nightmare; Loki knew she was not, her muscles were rocketing tremors due to the excessive pressure they had received, he knew the pain so very much. He spoke to her quietly as he traced the scars on her leg with his spare hand, he felt the tingles in his fingers...

Amora.

They had healed her with magic as they had tortured her; it all made sense.

His body stiffened and she muttered something in her sleep due to the change in his posture. They forced her to the brink of death before forcing her back with magic, healing her death-worthy wounds just to put them back in place all over again. They were throwing her life around like a ball in a child's game. They had definitely advanced in the torture side of intelligence.

He traced her arms with his hands, this time looking for any indication of what they may have used to create such pain. He frowned at the small circular scars that had gone pink on her upper arm – the heat rods. They had used them on her also. No; this was beyond unfair.

Loki was the long of unfair but this was pure monstrosity.

Loki felt a surge of anger, what was the need for this? She was a mere mortal and yet, _and yet_, they had tortured them both to the same extent! No wonder she was out cold, the pain had him growling and writhing; how would she handle such things? He allowed his head to fall back against the wall as he pulled Amelia closer to his chest in a protective manor. If this was anything like the last time, they were in for a week's full of daily visits from the repetitive pain.

They needed out.

If only she had listened to him before his magic had drained, they would have stood a chance of escape...

But she was too god damn stubborn and he admitted to himself – yet would never breathe a word aloud of it - that it was partly his fault. He had allowed himself to go toe to toe with the huge green monster once again, but most of all; he had told Amelia to get herself out of messes. They all needed a little help once in a while, he was a spiteful person, this much he knew.

The runes didn't strip him of his magic; such a thing would kill him, it would be like tearing the soul from a body. His magic was a part of him, entwined within his DNA and sewn into his existance, and to remove it would kill him. It only pushed it to its lowest limits; it drained him to the extent of exhaustion but left enough for survival.

Amora knew this and he never wanted to strangle her as strongly ever before. He would break her neck and severe her head before she had the chance to lift a finger, Loki had his limits, he had his lines; and she had crossed each and every single one of them. Those who crossed such lines didn't live to tell the tale, for if they did, Loki wouldn't live up to the reputation that every person beyond the nine realms knew.

Such things, such torture that had occurred, it would surprise anyone who received knowledge of it, they would refuse to believe the god of lies... This was beyond the likes of S.H.I.E.L.D, he doubted the one eyed director even knew of the happenings, for if he did, he was the most deceiving man Loki had yet to meet. No; The Council were a whole new division of human supremacy bullshit.

He allowed himself to drift into sleep, his body repairing itself with each beat of his strained heart, he was never one to be comforted and yet he was comforted now that she was in his arms. He wouldn't let them take her. He wouldn't let them do such things to her.

No.

Never again was she to be hurt because of him – because of them.

Loki fell asleep knowing he was no longer the monster of reality, The Council were.

**Amelia's P.O.V**

Yesterday's events were events I neither wanted to talk nor think about once again within my existence, theoretically it was at no fault other than my own but something needed to be done about my vulnerability. I had 'gone to sleep', okay so I had passed out, the torture was just-no, no._No._ I was not going to think of such things, I was not going to remember such horror. It was everything I had expected it to be yet it left me feeling bare and dirty, they had given me wounds and legitimately rubbed salt deep within them, only to sew back up the wounds.

Metaphorical, of course, but I would not be surprised if that happened to be a device of torture they used.

Maybe they had an employee suggestion box on what fucked up ideas they could conjure, the employee of the month goes to-Stop. I couldn't think of it. It hurt to think about. Or maybe that was the actual pain that pulsed throughout my body in small lines, following my veins to the very tips of my fingers and causing my back to shake unwillingly.

I had dreamt of seemingly happier days for once, I hardly ever dreamt of non-nightmarish things anymore but I was certain of Loki's involvement though I forgot the dream upon wakening.

I still considered that maybe I was dreaming as I looked up at Loki's face from where I lay, my head on his lap and his eyes staring forward at nothing in particular. I feared that my heart had bore a hole in my chest due to surprise - you would really have expected me to not react to surprise concerning the god anymore - but refrained from saying something stupid as he glanced down at me, his face no further than 30cm from mine.

I cocked an eyebrow and the simple movement caused a headache to pounce behind my eyes and I blinked, allowing my eyes to linger closed longer than I should have allowed. We were in a different cell, for starters. I wasn't separated from Loki any more and I was still surprisingly alive.

"Hello," He greeted quietly, studying my face with intent worry.

Small cuts lined his jaw and there was a purple bruise on his cheekbone, there was also blood on his bottom lip from where it had been split and I realised I felt worse than he looked. He had colour on his face, at least, for I was uncertain as to whether or not I still had legs.

I wiggled my toes, wincing at the pain but on the positive side of enquiries, I still had legs.

I thought about sitting up, but by merely breathing my chest felt constricted and my muscles were aching and so I decided otherwise, for once allowing myself to rest, not caring that it was upon Loki for I was not the one who had initiated such contact, I had awoken this way. I noticed that I was staring when his hand traced a sore trail down my chin and I figured it was either upon the line of a bruised or cut.

"How are you on this fine morning?" My voice was raw and it hurt to speak but I forced myself anyhow, speaking always ended up being a necessity of mine.

"It is past afternoon," He informed as he cocked his head to the side slightly, still looking down at me, "And I think it is I who should be asking you of your well being."

"Me?" I rolled my eyes a little, before sighing and pushing myself up with his help, my stomach muscles literally screamed when I sat up and my shoulder blades burned with the slightest of movements.

I leant back against the wall, still half leaning on him but he didn't seem to mind, "I am dandy, completely and utterly fine," The force that speaking put on my chest made me cough a little and I tried to force my breathing back to regularity, which caused me to cough further.

I was recovering - magically induced - from a punctured lung, if I recalled correctly, "I've actually never felt better."

He smiled a little, before glancing at my arms as he had most likely been doing since he saw me, the scars were quickly fading and I cursed The Council for having such knowledge and power of a sort. I didn't have to follow his eyes to know that he was staring at some of the scars from yesterday, but as I said before, I didn't want to even think about yesterday and so I completely ignored his concern.

"We're getting out of here," I muttered as I pushed myself up but fell to the right due to not being able to put any weight on that leg, which I had just figured out.

I would have landed on the floor once again, more likely hurting more of myself, but before I managed such brilliance, Loki's arm was around my waist as he hauled me upwards.

"Thanks." I muttered, barely audible, his arm lingered around my waist and I didn't push it away in fear of falling.

If I had a dime every time an un-expecting surprise punched me in the face, I would have enough money to buy the American government and buy myself out of here, I'd also have enough to buy myself some decent alcohol that I just realised I so desperately needed. All of this ran through my mind as I was knocked onto my ass, not only in shock, but because that fucking hammer could scare the shit out of anyone, especially when it misses your torso by a mere few inches and slams against the wall just behind you throwing dust everywhere.

I've never really appreciated the destruction of the hammer until it almost killed me; but hey, it was a big hammer and I was really happy to see something happening in favour of me for once.

Thor, as was expected, followed suit through the hole in the wall where the door had once been, an alarm could be heard screeching loudly in the background repetitively, alarms were always a pure annoyance to me.

"We must go!"

An explosion caused the room to shake completely, distorting my vision and I had to put out my hands to steady myself though I was sat on the floor, Loki yanked me upwards as carefully as he could, pulling me forward.

Thor boomed once more as a less large explosion racketed plaster from the ceiling, "Now!"

Stark appeared next to Thor, for once I was not surprised by his sudden appearance, and he pushed him aside, holding out his hand to me, "You might want to hold on."

As he said those words, another explosion threw more rubble at our commencing group, larger than both the two previous ones entwined and I refused to take Stark's hand. I instead settled with clutching to Loki and he kept us both steady. Loki's face had never worn such a scowl as he stared at our saviours, and I don't think I'd ever been so surprised to see any two people before. I wasn't expecting to be rescued never mind a full blown rescue mission with rocketing explosions. I completely understood Loki's annoyance; we were being rescued by the two people we hated the most for various reasons.

I pushed my pain aside and clenched my jaw.

He let out a small noise of irritation that momentarily amused me as I stormed past Stark's hand to climb through the hole in the wall, I nearly lost my footing as the whole building shook again, my legs too weak, and I wondered what exactly they had done to cause such a distraction, but whatever they had done was working for I hadn't seen or heard one soldier.

Loki kept a hand around my waist as we limped down the corridor, or more so I limped and he half supported, half pulled me along so that I wouldn't fall behind; his protectiveness blatantly angered Stark, confused Thor and amused me.

Stark led us around a corner to a sudden halt, a lift shaft to one side that was empty and there was smoke rising from within it, assumingly from a broken lift thanks to none other than one of two heroes.

"I assume we're just going to fly up there," I snorted sarcastically before realising that half of us could actually fly, I then sighed causing Thor to smile.

"This is most definitely not the big break out plan I had hoped for," Loki muttered as we stepped closer to the lift shaft, avoiding large chunks of concrete that littered the floor.

The whole place was ready to collapse in on itself as I peered over the edge of the broken lift shaft and forced down a cough that tried to claw its way up my throat due to the musty air. And the lung situation.

Stark sighed, irritated at our lack of compliance.

I turned to glare at him but he motioned to Loki, "This damsel in distress was working too slow for our liking, myself and Thor, being the smart people we are put together a little something to help you out. Fitz should have started the second distraction... We just saved you, believe it or not."

Loki's scowl grew angrier and I realised that I was going to have to go with Stark and he with Thor. Unless I were to go with Thor, I was almost certain that would piss off Stark and relieve Loki of unnecessary awkwardness. I owed Loki a lot, so whatever I could do to push comfort to his side of the table I would; but I wasn't sure he was very content on flying with Stark either.

I knew that if it was possible, he would teleport, but he lacked many things; energy, health, knowledge of our whereabouts. I offered Thor my arm, which he took but not forgetting to send Stark a small glance of confusion.

"Myself and Amelia shall fly first, you follow." Thor nodded at Stark before wrapping his arm around me; I was engulfed by his muscle as he started to swing his hammer in a circular motion.

Oh god, I was flying with a god. With a hammer that aided his flight.

"You might want to hold your breath," Loki muttered to me as he stepped closer to Stark, "You're wheezing as it is."

Thor furrowed his brows but by that time we were ready for take-off, I pushed my eyes closed and held my breath per Loki's instructions – he was rarely wrong, and so it was wise to listen to him once in a while - as I felt my feet leave the floor and the warm air hit my skin.

Mere moments later, we emerged into daylight and I took a gulp of air in and winced at the pain it caused due to the tightness of my chest, though we continued to fly higher, I realised that agents and soldiers must have swarmed the grounds in a desperate attempt to find and stop us, though they may have been slightly late for that part of their failing plan.

Other than the wind soaring past my ears, I could hear Stark's suit and it relieved me to know that Loki was nearby, the weeks we had spent cooped up had caused me to grow to the guy, if he was near, I wasn't so much as panicked, because I knew he was not as stupid nor idiotic as me and therefore I wouldn't be completely fucked if something bad were to happen.

That was a legitimate reason, was it not?

I felt our velocity slow to allow Stark to catch up and my hair was amass in every direction, and in a matter of seconds we were flying side by side. I apologised to Thor for the craziness of my hair and he laughed, claiming that his was in a similar fashion. I could only snort in reply because it were true; his golden locks were flying around his head in many directions.

"Uh," Stark started as he pulled closer to Thor and me, "We never really planned this far ahead."

"Idiots," Both I and Loki said in unison, causing me to smirk.

"Hey!" Stark complained, "I don't see you breaking your own asses out."

I momentarily scrunched my eyes to a close to refrain from crying out at the pain that exploded within each cell of my body. What a time to remember the glass in my side that had probably grew to be a part of me due to all the healing.

I had done with my share.

"I think it matters not," Thor spoke loudly, the whole concept of talking midair was hard to maintain calm with, Thor looked pained as he took a quick glance at me and then Loki, "What matters is where we should take refuge for we cannot fly forever and it is most likely that the humans will try to find us no matter where our location may be. They do not seem to be peace-preaching, considering the bruises you are both wearing."

"I know of a place," Loki began, refusing to look at neither Stark nor Thor.

I stared at nothing in particular, fucking pain in my head, chest, stomach, life.

He then informed Stark of a chain of numbers, which seemed to be, most likely, coordinates. Stark repeated them to JARVIS and asked for directions... Or a GPS... Or whatever it was that Stark's suit contained. JARVIS, of course, obliged as we altered our course to head to wherever it seemed Loki had spoke of. To say I was curious was a large understatement, I was thriving with curiosity to where Loki could possibly be taking us.

"Thor," Loki began, causing me to open my eyes with curiosity - Loki was talking to Thor. Intentionally. His voice was unwavering, "Adjust your grip on Amelia."

"What, wh-" I was the one to interrupt myself this time, but that was only because my tongue failed to pronounce the words I wanted.

My grip on Thor loosened as my eyes fell to a close.


	18. Chapter 18

******Thor's P.O.V**

To Stark's surprise and Loki's expectation, Amelia was still sound asleep in Thor's arms before they reached their set destination; Pandora's cavern, located in the midst of a large and frozen forest long forgotten by surrounding villages, the forest had once been green and musty, but more life roamed here in it's frozen state, and Pandora much preferred the nature, she was an elf, the 'dark' part meant nothing but a stereotype she so deeply hated.

Thor knew little about Pandora - due fact that they had never met and Loki never spoke of her. He knew that Loki had saved her life, and so she owed him. He didn't trust her... She was Loki's friend, that was the first indication that she was untrustworthy, the second was that she had left her home planet to take refuge, leaving those who loved her behind.

Wouldn't a loyal friend stay by your side as your world fell to pieces?

Thor did not know much about her or her being, and so he tried to refrain from passing judgement... Yet. She was a dark elf, and he was never fond of such creatures. She was never fond of Thor for that matter, hence why she ignored him before welcoming Loki with a gleam of happiness and surprise. Her eyes had instantly warmed as she realised he was the cause for her appearance in the winter morning, though she most likely sensed him before she saw him.

Magical perks.

Thor didn't have a lot of magic, just a faster healing process and his godly strength, and those with magic were usually sly and vindictive. Precision at its finest.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Asgardian?" She grinned as she pecked each of Loki's cheeks and held both his shoulders at arms length, "Rumour has it you are insane, they are a bit slow, no? We both already knew you were crazy."

Thor watched as Loki tried to refrain from smiling but within seconds his smile spread from ear to ear and happiness etched itself upon Loki's features, "You and I both, Pandora."

Thor could not remember a time he saw his little brother so happy; though it was only a smile, Loki rarely smiled a genuine, happy smile anymore. Loki rarely smiled. He usual scowled. Or smirked unsettlingly.

Or he just didn't smile at all.

She acknowledged both Stark and Thor with her eyes, before furrowing her eyebrows at a sleeping Amelia held bridal style in Thor's muscley arms. Of course she was familiar with the extremely famous Tony Stark, and she knew of Thor due to Loki, she wasn't overly fond of the person that made her friend feel like shit; Pandora was a very abrupt, reckless and care free person.

Thor shifted slightly and brought Amelia closer to his body, her legs were dangling uselessly over one side of his forearm. It was laughable how peaceful she looked in her sleep, but Thor knew - because of unfortunate and unwilling circumstances - that she was the most unhappiest of humans when she was wakened.

Amelia was the weakest out of them all, and Thor was the strongest; he felt it better for her to be in his care. It had been a long, tense flight and they were all exhausted; Thor was unsure whether or not Amelia had simply fallen asleep or passed out from pure exhaustion, she looked bruised and battered and Thor didn't want to think about the reasons for such wounds being upon her skin. He never thought the Midgardian's possible of such treachery, but he would be naive to think that of any race that existed in this day and age.

Stark's helmet was open and his breath caused small puffs of water vapour to exit his mouth due to their frozen surroundings, the same happened with Thor and he was largely comforted as he saw Amelia's chest rise and fall ever so slightly. Loki, on the other hand, had no effect on the surrounding areas, for reasons that Stark knew little about and Thor was still learning.

He tried not to stare at the small framed, blonde haired woman who stood before them, also known as Pandora; she looked human, but her presence proved otherwise. It was an illusion, hiding the world from her usual form. Loki had warned them both of Pandora before landing, but expressed he cared not for whatever hole they managed to dig themselves into. Loki, of course, knew of Pandora's natural form; it was beautiful. He had taught her how to hide it among humans, their little brains were not capable of such acceptance, or so he thought; the majority of earth were still recovering from knowledge of the Chitauri's existence.

"Now," She dropped her hands from his shoulders and stepped towards the mouth of the cave, she clapped her hands together as she led them inside, "I expect that this is not just a visit to see your greatest friend."

The cave was like a simple walkway surrounded in stone, the air remained chilly but the walls were almost too bare to be rock. She stopped towards the end of the small walk-way and pressed her hand flat towards a part of the wall hidden in shadow.

Thor remembered to shield his eyes from the great white light that was emitted as their surroundings changed and Amelia barely stirred, he was familiar with such teleportation.

Stark made a strained sound from behind Thor and Thor smiled a little; ah Midgardian's. It wouldn't be enough to knock Stark out, or at least, it shouldn't have, he swayed slightly but they were now in a brick walled room that looked like an old cottage living room, warm and cosy as a fire place containing a roaring fire was situated within the centre of one wall.

"You expect correctly, Pandora." Loki sighed before glancing irritatedly at a yawning Stark, "But first, could I trouble you for accommodating this idiot?"

"Hey, you weren't the one carrying a weight for hours on end." Stark defended, feeling too compact within the walls of his suit.

He tapped certain places on his forearm and felt the cooler air hit his skin as his suit began to remove itself from his body.

"I do not weigh that much." Loki tutted.

"Next time, you can fly." Stark muttered as he popped his helmet from his head.

Pandora smiled slyly at Stark and Loki sighed, letting himself fall into one of the cosy brown armchairs. Pandora was a flirt at heart, she held much curiosity for the infamous Iron Man and wouldn't pass down the opportunity to interrogate him until his ears bled.

"It won't be too difficult to find a room fit enough for a man such as yourself," She smirked as she stalked towards him.

He paused amid removing his armour to raise his eyebrow at her, today was not a good day for him to die; he had things to do that involved explaining this whole ordeal to Pepper considering she was most likely going crazy and ignoring Fury - at least she had the audacity to know that there was some deeper meaning to just breaking two fugitives from a heavily guarded, top secret prison.

Pandora rolled her eyes and opened her arm out; motioning towards the door. "I shall return in a second, Loki."

Stark barely had the energy to walk and so he refrained from arguing with her as he forced himself through the door, lustful for a comfy bed to rest his head and dream of something other than today's happenings.

Loki let out a breath as they left and Thor felt suddenly awkwardly alone with his brother. He couldn't find the words to say, so he just stood to the side, Amelia in his arms and exhaustion in his legs.

"You should sleep." Loki spoke first, glancing from Thor's face to Amelia's sleeping body.

Thor also glanced down to her, the main reason he hadn't sought a room yet was due to the fact he needed somewhere to put her... Safely.

Loki stood up and stepped towards his brother, debate beneath his skin, "Give her to me, go rest, it's been a long day."

Thor's eyebrows furrowed further and he blinked a couple of times, he could trust Loki with Amelia; Loki had been with her far more than he had, and she was still alive... It appeared Loki had a soft spot for Amelia, and Thor planned on thinking further about it once his mind had at least had a small rest. Exhaustion was a big deal when you managed three days without sleeping. He hadn't slept properly since he learned of The Council's plans to torture both his brother and Amelia, and that was when he also learned that breaking human laws were inevitable if he were to do the right thing.

He held out Amelia, taking note of Loki's slight swaying as Amelia's weight was in his arms.

"Brother, you need rest also." Thor voiced his concern and Loki just rolled his eyes.

Thor remembered when humour between them was normality, and maybe, just maybe, things will be like that again one day. Thor could only hope to dream.

"I shall." Loki dismissed, sitting down on the longer sofa, Amelia's head in his lap just as it had been the night before.

He was thankful that she was merely sleeping, other than writhing in pain and on the brink of death. Loki had slept longer than usual the previous night, it seemed easier to allow himself to drift into unconsciousness when she was by his side... Or rather laid on him. His eyes lingered closed but he brought himself back as he heard the door open in the room, he looked up to see a grinning Pandora waltz into the room and plop herself down into the armchair opposite the sofa. She crossed her legs beneath her and continued to smile at him until he finally smiled, rolling his eyes.

His fingers continued to massage Amelia's head and trace down her arms, the scars had notably faded and he continued to trace them with his fingers.

"No." Was all Loki said in reply to Pandora's gleaming eyes.

"I never said anything," Pandora smirked, leaning back in her chair just to stare further.

"You didn't have to." Loki muttered, letting his eyes fall back down to Amelia.

The scars caused by the heat rods were ragged and looked sore to the touch, they hadn't faded as much as the other cuts and it physically pained Loki that she had been dealt the same misuse as him - he was a god, things like that were expectable. She was not, she was a human... She was Amelia... He knew the pain that they caused and he couldn't begin to imagine the pain that she had felt. His fist slowly clenched and it continued to clench further, anger poisoning his veins once again.

The Council would die, but not before they met pain far worse than they had thought possible.

"You are exhausted. You should sleep before I allow myself to kill you with questions." She began to get up, it was unlike Pandora to give up so easily, but maybe that was her plan.

Loki rolled his eyes, his fist unfurling and resting back on Amelia's arm, "You have never been one for caring about comfort, sit back down you fool."

She laughed as she dropped back into the chair. Her laugh died down gradually but a faint smile remained present on her face; seeing Loki had put her in a permanent good mood for the night.

"You've come to reclaim that favour, I presume."

He nodded slightly in reply, looking back up to her as she shifted into her natural form.

Her skin was pale to the extent it was slightly gray, on a human it would look sickly but to a Dark Elf it was the normality. Her blonde hair was almost aglow, separating where her pierced ears poked through. She was never one for following the rules, she had allowed her whole being to adapt to the atmosphere; she once looked like the rest of Svartalfheim, armoured up and hairless. She allowed her hair to grow, she did not have to modify herself to perfection - she was perfection. Her irises remained a burning red and her eyelashes a deep black. Intricate patterns like tattoos followed her left shoulder to her right hand palm, that was her thumbprint, that was who she was.

"Spit it out, then." She urged.

"I originally came to you in hopes of simple refuge, myself and Amelia are... Wanted among humans. There is a higher league to this game, we just needed to rest - to recover." Loki began, momentarily motioning to I Amelia.

"To recover from whatever this higher league has done to you both?" Pandora more stated than asked, "Is she human?"

"She is."

"And yet..." She put her fingertips together in front of her chin in a scheming fashion, "Interesting. She is different, I presume?"

Loki smiled at the small statement, the smile gradually reaching his eyes; making them gleam, "Oh, most definitely."

"Are you alike?" Pandora asked, crossing one leg under the other.

"You'll find out, I'm certain." Loki allowed his hand to climb back up to Amelia's face, tracing her those scars with his fingertips as if he could somehow make them disappear.

Pandora sighed in a mocking manor, pulling her fist to her heart. Loki forced his lips to sit in a straight line, before shaking his head at her immaturity.

She laughed a little, "I bet the only reason you're not moving her to a bed is so that she doesn't wake."

Loki nodded a little, his face no longer maintaining it's previous humour as he thought about it. Yes; she was right, he would not move her as he wanted her to salvage as much sleep as possible. She rarely slept and so the more of it she got, the better. His eyes travelled the scars, he couldn't let it go; her skin was marked. Amelia had become a part of his daily life, in companionship, whether she liked it or not. He had grown protective of her, and though he cursed himself for it, it felt good to be able to be comforted by another person once again.

Pandora stared at them both knowingly, "Continue."

Loki sighed and for once, closed his eyes as he spoke softly, barely audible, "Oh, Pandora. I've gotten myself into such a mess."

There was a small air of silence as Pandora thought of a reply, anything she said to him in times of need were always curing, Loki knew and hoped for this as her voice sounded in the air again, "That depends on what you consider a mess, my friend."

"I didn't mean for things to get like this," He said, stopping when Amelia murmured something in her sleep.  
His eyelids fluttered open as he pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, "I meant to use her to my advantage, I meant to take revenge on those muling quims. I was meant to remain relatively... Not good."

"So you tried to remain badass in a plan for revenge and became sidetracked?" She questioned.

"No, no." He almost laughed, "I had a plan for revenge; she also wanted revenge. Amelia had a thirst for it and no care for humanity - much like you and I. She would do whatever it took to get what she wanted, caring not for the consequences."

"Are you positive she's human?" Pandora smirked.

Loki recited most things he knew about Amelia, leaving out personal or irrelevant things that had humoured him and caused him to grow all the more fond of her. From being Stark's niece to wanting revenge and leaving the Earth. Their journey together had been somewhat eventful, as short as it may have been. Time did fly, he remembered the night he had countered her in the car park - Pandora had maybe mentioned something about killing to see such a scene.

He had broken her leg, she had broken his nose, she had also taken out a considerable amount of his idiot guards... He had healed her, she could see Åsgårdsreien with her bare eye and most of all; Amora was out for her neck.

"Amora is that annoying child that takes and takes until you put a bullet between her eyes," Pandora scowled, "You seriously need to do something about her, Loki."

"Is that an offer?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "No, I will kill her. I care not for torture, she just needs to die and stay as far away from me as is possible."

"Stay away from you - or Amelia?" Pandora asked, pinpointing a fact. Loki shrugged, knowing Pandora didn't have to ask. "Torture is a somewhat repetitive occurrence between humans, it seems. But Amora healing Amelia to repeat the process is beyond me, that is a whole new level of fucked up. If you don't get her first, I will. I presume you plan on taking down this so called Council also?"

"I see no other way," He said truthfully, "They have crossed a line."

"Loki," Pandora tutted, "I am not oblivious to everything that happens upon this planet; they crossed a line the first time they caught and tortured you. You should also work on that, before I do."

There was a comfortable silence that allowed Loki to sink further into the cushioned sofa, Pandora's snort brought him back into reality.

"She broke your nose?" Pandora couldn't help but snicker, "And she's still alive? Man, that's special."

"Yes. I may have panicked and broke her leg, also." Loki informed.

Pandora sighed as she rolled her eyes, "You are unbelievable. Just accept her as a friend as you did me, she sounds... Most definitely different. But next time, maybe try and talk to her about it, breaking legs is not an invitation to friendship, its more of an invitation to getting your ass kicked."

Loki hummed a disapproving reply, "There are many questions to be answered tomorrow. On your side, but also on mine. Amelia is the inquisitive type, try not to wind her patience too much; I know that is a speciality of yours."

"Oh, I will have my fun." Grinned Pandora.

******Amelia's P.O.V**

To say that I have never awoken in a stranger place would be a lie, I've done some pretty fucked up shit in my time. Like the time I awoke in the Aokigahara forest in Japan... Naked, with no recollection of the previous day's happenings. If Barton had not found me, who knows how long I'd have to live my life in a temporary Hunger Game. I was not as surprised as the previous day to realise I was sleeping on Loki, but the last thing I recall was praying that Thor would not loosen his grip lest I be a pancake upon the ground beneath.

I was, however, pretty confused as to where we were; I could here the snap and crackle of burning wood and smell the musky scent of bark.

I did not want to sit up - mainly because Loki was sleeping, and I did not want to face the wrath of that god - my body was stiff from one of two things; a prolonged flight and oh, maybe the torture.

It was like the fool sensed I had awoke, for he stretched beneath me and stifled a yawn to which I raised an eyebrow with a vacant expression on my face.

"G'morning," I grumbled, watching as his gaze fell down to meet mine.

"It's 3am." He stated, again with the time telling.

"And what, you just happen to know the time?" I chuckled a little as he rolled his eyes, "Is that a god thing?"

"No, there's a clock on that wall." Loki retorted, motioning with his eyes to the wall opposite.

Ha ha fuck. "Oh. Sorry for sleeping on you, twice, though I don't know how it happened this time." I started yawning midway the sentence, but continued to speak anyway.

"I took you from Thor, I thought you'd be rather baffled if you woke next to him or Stark." He informed, pushing the hair from his face.

I forced myself to sit, and then stand, and then stretch. My body ached, each muscle was pulsing and each joint was stiff. My throat felt like sandpaper and my chest still hurt.

"Where are we?" I asked almost suddenly, surprising myself.

He sprawled out on the sofa lazily, "A friend's."

I furrowed my eyebrows... Loki had friends? That sounded harsh, but seriously; he wasn't the most friendly of people, "A friend of whom?"

Who was to say that his 'friend' did not consider me an ant worthy of squashing?

"She will not harm you," He rolled his eyes, "Well, for now."

"Real assuring." I muttered as I walked towards the window, it was completely dark outside, the moon was the only source of light and it illuminated the tips of mountains in the distance.

___Mountains._

I undid the latch on the windows and pushed them both open, ideas springing to mind when I saw there was a large ledge outside the window. I hauled my legs over it and plopped myself down, breathing in the cold air.

"Do you have a death wish?" Loki spoke from behind me, I glanced to the side to see him joining my side on the ledge.

"I'm sure you won't let me fall." I grinned as I turned away, trying to make out the surrounding scene of nature we seemed to be in the midst of.

"I'm sure." He confirmed.

We sat in silence for a while, my body was aching but I forced myself to sit straight.

"So this turned out a little differently than expected." I began, my fingers splayed flat on the ledge.

"You could say that," He chuckled indifferently.

I turned my head to look at him, to find that he was already looking at me with is green eyes aglow. I will figure out the mystery of his eyes before I die. I hoped.

"Yes," He said as he searched my face for a moment, "I'll assist in your departure from Midg- Earth. From Earth."

I couldn't help but allow my smile to spread upon my face, "That's... That's wow. Loki. I mean it. Thank you."

"It's the least I could do, there was no reason for you to be hurt-"

"No." I interrupted with a sigh, "No. Leave that out. It wasn't your fault, it was mine. It's over now. It's done. Let bygones be bygones... And stuff."

"Amelia-"

"Nope, Loki. I don't want to talk about it." I tried once again.

"Ignoring what happened doesn't change the fact that it did happen." He sighed, tracing a finger along one of the scars on my arm.

The skin tingled where he ran his fingers over it and I leaned into his touch a little. My breath hitched a little when he touched a certain part of my arm that caused pain to build up, but in return he just pulled me into his grip, his arms tightened around me and I allowed myself to loosen up, relieving my back of the constant ache.

"But I don't have to talk about it." I mumbled.

"I'm here if you change your mind." He spoke softly into my ear, before leaning his head on mine. I could hear his breath leave his mouth and it tickled against my ear.

I smiled. At nothing in particular. I just smiled. Oh, the irony of this situation. I never considered myself and the trickster friends - mainly because I couldn't and wouldn't trust him - yet I found myself hanging onto him as though he was hope. My smile slowly dropped and I wrapped my arms around him slowly, tightening my grip. My heart rate quickened, my eyes squeezed shut and I let out a deep breath.

Friends. The god of destruction was my only friend.

As if sensing my mishap, Loki shifted so that he leant against the window frame and I against him, in his arms. His scent of leather and something I couldn't quite place filled my senses and I kept my eyes closed, living in the silence for a little longer.

"If you do not want to talk about that, then is there anything else?" He began.

There was nothing that I wanted, maybe reconciliation and knowledge of things out of my reach.

I could dream, right?

"Have you broken the cold case of your eye colour yet?" I said softly.

He snorted a little, causing me to bounce slightly, "No."

"Do you have any more plans to dominate the world?" I opened my eyes, lifting my face to meet his eyes with a mocking smile.

"No," He scoffed, "I thought we'd bypassed that part of our relationship."

I couldn't tug my eyes from his, even if I wanted to.

Our faces were mere inches apart and the urge to move closer was clear as day, "I didn't think we'd ever bypass the enemy part of our relationship."

He laughed a little, before placing his forehead against mine. I shivered, but the bitter coldness of the air was not the reason for that shiver.

"My little Stark," He spoke softly, his breath now hitting my lips coolly, "Oh how far we've come."

I took a steady breath in, and remained unblinking, all I could see were the green of his eyes and I could faintly feel his heartbeat against mine, his hair had fallen around us, as had mine, "We make a great pair, you and I."

His lips spread into a teasing grin, "I am unsure whether or not that is a good thing, yet."

To say the next moment was a blur would be a lie, it was lucid as day and highly memorable, though it wasn't clear who initiated it, it was not something I'd like to think of as forgettable.

His lips were cold against mine due to the weather but extremely soft all the same. I leaned up and he leaned down. His hand came up to cup one side of my face and I feared for a moment that my heart had gone into cardiac arrest due to overtime. We moved slowly, almost in unison and something exploded within my chest. I refrained from letting my tongue trace the outline of his lips, I refrained from doing much more than mimicking his movements.

What was I doing? It felt so right - but it was wrong... Was it not? I was all for the 'do now ask later' and so I shut out all thoughts.

It was Loki who pulled back first, and I didn't complain - I did need to breathe occasionally. His hand remained on my face as we just stared at each other, no words were leaving my mouth. I realised he was waiting for my reaction as his eyes remained on me. I could only manage a small smile and he let out a small sigh of relief a his hand moved to push a strand of hair behind my ear.

The silence remained and so I coughed to clear my throat, being able to do nothing more but smile in a mockingly manor, "I still hate you."

"How relieving, I thought you may have been ill." He grinned as we moved away from each other a little more for breathing space and to address the present issue.

"What now?" I asked, taking his hand into mine for the hell of it.

I splayed his fingers with my own and then put them flat against each other. His hand was rather large compared to mine, his one hand could probably engulf both of mine.

"I guess we wait." He shrugged.

"I didn't think I could render a god speechless," I grinned, playfully punching his arm.

"You don't think you can do a lot of things." He muttered as he closed his hand around mine.

His hands were strangely intriguing. His palms were pale and his blue veins were vibrant as they ran down his slender fingers. They were hands created for delicacy and precision.

"I can break your nose," I smiled at the thought - I didn't think I could do much in fairness, but I could break a god's nose.

"I'd rather you didn't." He shook his head a little, an unfamiliar smile on his face.

He was lacking his sly grin, the deadly smirk, instead it was replaced with warmth. A knock on the door interrupted our conversation, Loki turned to face the culprit and I remained staring out at nothing in particular to realise it was snowing.

"Sorry to interrupt," Stark said clearly and I sighed, "Pandora would like to see you, and.." He paused, "I'd like a private word with Amelia."

I turned to look at Loki who faced me with a questionable glare, I nodded slightly, "Have fun."

He left hesitantly, giving me a look of 'call if you need me' which was strange and I swung my legs around to face Stark. He sported jeans and the usual classic rock shirt as he stepped to the side to allow Loki to get by. Or rather glide by. You know how it is.

"How are you?" He asked, letting himself fall into the armchair, his eyes remaining on me.

"Get to the point." I stated simply, watching him carefully.

If he had come here for a normal conversation, he would not be leaving with one for I was not in the mood to play happy families.

He sighed as though expectant, "Can we not do this, please? Can we just skip the small talk and the bluntness, can we just talk? No strings attached?"

"That's like putting a fox in a chicken den and asking it not to bite," I muttered as I jumped from the side and onto the floor, maybe I would have a heart to heart emotions talk with Stark one day, but today was not that day.

He chuckled a little at the thought, "Except you're no fox."

I shrugged, "Figure of speech."

He scratched the back of his neck before rubbing his face tiredly, "I'm not a chicken."

I shrugged again. Figure of speech.

"Sit down." He gave up.

I cocked my head to the side slightly, before obliging and laying lazily on the sofa as a thought sprung to mind - Pandora was the elf he met when he first came to Earth, it made sense now. How had I not figured that out sooner? The atmosphere somehow managed to remain calm and I stared thoughtfully at Stark.

And then the bickering happened.

"You're welcome." He started.

"For what?"

"Breaking you out." He informed and I snorted.

"I didn't ask you to." I snapped.

"Okay, right. Okay." He got up and began to leave, he shot me a questioning glare and I didn't react.

He literally slammed the door leaving me to think about my actions. Was I being harsh? No.

Maybe he deserves another chance.

No.

But he is my uncle-

No.

What the fuck just happened with Loki?! I had seemed to forget about that small moment of sincerity. Oh wow - had I been drugged? Hit my head? I raised my hands to my head without thinking, but no, no pain. I was in deep shit now. I couldn't get involved with a prince of Asgard. An alien. A god. Of lies and destruction and everything bad.

Or could I? Was this another scheme at the hands of Loki? Either way I knew the feeling that had sprung in my chest. I had liked it.

"Oh shit." I stood up and paced a little, running my hands through my hair, "Oh, shit."

I stopped dead in my tracks as something in the corner of the room caught my attention almost instantly and I stared knowingly unsure of what my next move should be.

"I think I can shine a little light on the situation," The dark elf said from the corner of the room, she was leaning against the wall with a sly smile on her face.

She looked magnificent.

I tried not to stare but it was a little difficult concerning she was an elf. An elf. A mythical creature with pointy eats and hair that looked so blonde it was almost aglow with her ears poking through at either side.

An elf - this was not intimidating at all.

"You are..." I raised an eyebrow, unsure of how I was supposed to react to this - they didn't have instruction leaflets for this sort of thing, "An elf."

"We'll done, you are one smart human." She teased, pushing herself from the wall.

She was tall and elegant, and something told me that she could probably knock me to my ass. Blindfolded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said sarcastically as I sat back down onto the sofa, "Us naive humans aren't familiar with things that don't belong on Earth."

Oh I was one snappy motherfucker, if I wasn't careful this woman would have me for dinner, but I was well and truly frustrated at life. She moved gracefully across the room, with a snap of her fingers the windows closed and the fire blazed hotter. I forgot about the windows, but luckily I refrained from jumping.

Point to me.

She chuckled, clearly amused by my unwillingness to go down without a fight, "Interesting. It's chilly out, better watch you don't catch ill."

Another human pun. Great.

"Shouldn't you be busy?" I said as I leaned back into the sofa and crossed my legs beneath me, "I mean, it's almost Christmas."

An elf pun. I really needed to work on my comebacks but she hadn't yet ripped my throat out, which was good, in all fairness, she had started it. Immaturity at its finest, but I wasn't backing down. It was too late for that.

She sat herself down on the armchair, her fingertips pressed together in front of her face like that of Sherlock Holmes, "You people have never failed to amuse me with your bedtime stories."

Because humans were oblivious to everything, she basically stated. It was true, but I scowled at her nonetheless as there was a brief knock on the door. It was pushed open to reveal an eyebrow raising Loki.

"Oh, good, you're both alive." He smiled as he walked into the room, he smirked a little as I continued to scowl at Pandora unblinkingly.

"We're getting along like a house on fire," Pandora grinned as she stood up and walked towards him.

"Should set you on fire," I murmured under my breath as I joined her in standing up, I wanted to venture into my surroundings, the confinement of this room wasn't cutting it for me.

"Baby, you can try." She winked before waving at me and leaving.

Right. She had supersonic elf hearing. This was going to be... Eventful.

"Pandora is delightful." I said sarcastically, watching as Loki smiled and remained silent.


	19. Chapter 19

I had a small feeling that each action Pandora took was to agitate me all the more - it was starting to work, and she knew it all too well. It wasn't exactly hard to see that I was both extremely tired and frustrated at my lack of sleep and rampant thoughts that coursed throughout my brain, yet she found in necessary to crawl under my skin; I didn't know if she was actually trying to, or I was over-exaggerating and she was actually a nice and polite being.

Maybe.

I ignored the smirk that followed her correction of something I had said - she was like the smart child that could correct the way you were breathing. I tried not to focus on her strong and unwavering voice as Thor handed me a cup of coffee, wonderful coffee for a sleep deprived Amelia. I mumbled a thanks and slowly sat down, not wanting to spill any of the burning hot liquid, I managed to pull my legs beneath me to sit cross-legged and luckily spilt nothing.

We had retreated, or gathered, to a common room of sorts - there was a fire, a tv, fancy arm chairs and a sofa big enough for four people, but I sprawled out on two of the spaces because I didn't want to deal with anyone being near me at a close proximity. I was already on edge with tiredness. I had many questions to ask and answers to find, I didn't know where we were, I didn't know why we were in some random building that was very homing and comfortable like that of a summer house cottage.

Everyone was diverted within their own conversations and my mind had tuned out, their voices turning into simple background noise as my mind ran wanders.

I took a careful sip of my flaming coffee. As soon as it hit my taste-buds, a horrible taste spread across my tongue. There was no sugar in my damn coffee. Again. Like the incident on the spaceship all over again. Maybe it was that everyone else preferred their coffee without sugar - I didn't mind it in all honesty, but recently I had a large loss for appetite and a large hunger for sleep. Or maybe it was just the coffee.

Fucking gods.

The coffee was bitter but it kept me warm, though I didn't drink it, just hugged the cup to my chest to savour the heat.

A small pulse of pain had drawn my attention from within my stomach and my mind flashed back to the drunken night I had spent... Drunk. I still had a shard of glass within me, the plus side was that I wasn't pouring blood, the downside was that it hurt. Or more so ached, Loki had said, if I remembered correctly, that this was not a permanent healing for it was all he could manage at the time. He must have forgotten for he spoke of it no more.

I heard Loki chuckle from where he stood aside Pandora and I diverted my attention, he was laughing at something she had said and I felt distaste for her once again. She knew so much that I did not, she had too many secrets and little plans that could possibly involve me - who accepts three strangers and a blood thirsty god into their home with open arms? She also annoyed me.

I was not jealous.

Nope.

My eyes flickered to Loki as he moved in my direction, he wore a small smile as if knowing that I so deeply hated my coffee right now. Which was crazy - I used to like coffee no matter its state. He held out his hand towards me and I widened my eyes at the sugar cubes balanced on his palm. So he knew of the spaceship incident... Interesting, that guard was a dick. I rolled my eyes as his smile turned into a grin and I just held out my cup for him to drop them into.

"You're unusually quiet," He said after a moment, sitting on the other end of the sofa.

If it had been any other person sitting there, I probably would have scowled or thrown an insult. I just wanted to sleep. That was all I wanted and yet when given the opportunity for sleep my brain would not let it be. My brain needed an off switch.

I took a sip of my now-better-tasting coffee, "Am I?"

He chuckled a little before smiling sympathetically, "She likes you."

I frowned as I swirled my coffee, I wasn't overly sure that I liked her. If she liked me, why try to aggravate me until I wanted to stab myself in the face? If that was her show for affection I wanted to be nowhere near it.

"You'll see," He shook his head as he pushed himself up from the sofa, he stretched before continuing, "Walk with me."

"Y'know," I said, setting my cup down on the coffee table, it was only half empty but I still had a lack of appetite. I stood to greet him with a mocking smile, "I don't recall ever taking orders from you."

Before he could react or retort with a promise of a snide comment, Pandora cleared her throat. I turned to see her sitting on a table, her hair spread out on her shoulders and down the length of her arms.

"I have a different idea," Pandora started as she hopped from the table she was sitting on, "How about you and I, Amelia, get to know each other a little better."

Because that sounds much better.

Her boots made little noise on the floor but she looked an awful lot like a cow boy - the boots, the jeans, the vest. I could definitely imagine a cowboy hat being perched above her head.

Loki shrugged, before nodding a little, "Play nice. Both of you."

Pandora fixed him with a look of mock hurt and I navigated myself towards the door, I didn't want to be alone with the elf but something told me I had no choice in the matter, considering both Stark and Thor had seemed to be dozing off from where they were sat. At least they were getting some sleep, unlike myself. I didn't even know what time it was.

"I am a nice person," I said pulling open the door but more holding onto it for support, my midsection hurt - that fucking glass - and my head felt faint.

Loki snorted sarcastically. In return I narrowed my eyes at him and walked from the room without another glance, followed by a curious Pandora.

"Liven up a little," She elbowed me playfully, reminding me a little of a bouncy cat, "You only have one life."

We seemed to be heading in a specific direction as we followed the turning corridors of the same repetitive wallpaper. She remained silent and I followed her lead, not wanting to spark an argument or maybe my death. She came to a halt in front of one door that was slightly bigger than the rest, turning to face me with a thoughtful look on her face.

"You're exhausted. Both mentally and physically. I can help with that... But it won't last forever. Some fights need to be fought on your own," She said carnivorously, searching my face - not for a reaction, but more of reading me, "You are... Something. I am not certain yet. There is something you have buried deep and you won't feel fully rested again until you address the matter. I'd recommend sooner or later for some things can win the war within your mind, that doesn't always end too well."

"Look," I sighed, too tired to care and argue, "I don't know what game you seem to want to play, but I'm out. I don't know what you don't see - or see - in me, but quite frankly I don't care right now. You have tried constantly to get something out of me but I have nothing to give."

"Do I unsettle you?" She asked, ignoring what I had just said.

I rubbed my face tiredly, looking down at my bright green socks - don't ask, "No, not unsettle. I just want to go, okay? I don't like being here, I don't want to be here, and I don't trust you. I don't want to trust you, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to anyone. I want to go somewhere, anywhere but here."

"You speak your mind. I'd say that'd be foolish but you are one brave soldier," She pushed open the door and led me through into what appeared to be a guest room, "You will not leave this place, I guess, no matter how much you don't want to be here, you will not leave. Tell me I am wrong."

"How am I supposed to reply to that?" I furrowed me eyebrows, I hadn't said that I was going to leave... Just that I wanted to. And I really did.

It was like she owned some big hotel in the midst of nowhere that could house all of our needs. It was most likely magic, I overheard Thor and Pandora discussing this place. It was legitimately a hotel for runaways or... Aliens. I still hated referring to them as aliens. Yes, they were not of earth and so they were alien to us, but I'd still rather call them something less childish and something more truthful.

"With the truth," She plopped herself onto the large bed, motioning for me to sit next to her, "You won't leave alone."

I sat down next to her with a sigh, I knew where this was heading; it didn't concern her. It didn't concern anyone and I was not ready to address the matter. Yet. And how the hell could she possibly know? She was far more wiser than I had given her credit for.

"I could leave," I argued, trying to maintain my strong fatigue.

Or at least tried to. Exhaustion did wonderful things to the mind.

"You won't leave without him," She smiled to herself a little.

It wasn't a snide comment, nor was it patronizing. It was an admiration. I remained silent, my thoughts rampant. Why would I? We were in this together, or not at all. We meaning I and Loki, but my eyelids remained heavy and I was lustful for something energy-building.

Like sleep.

"Nor he without you," She continued, causing my eyes to snap open almost instantly.

I wanted to hear what she had to say but at the same time I didn't want to trust the words for she was... Well. I instead allowed my eyes to trace the intricate tattoo that crossed her shoulder and arm with no sign of age or fading. If Loki sought the chance, he could - and would - leave without me, earlier events had confused me to extremes but I was still breathing. Loki was in this for himself, I had to remember that, he had told me that. He put himself first, and he had every right to. I was unsure who I put first any more for I was slowly losing my mind and I hated him for that.

"Despite being twenty years old," She said, "I am fond of you, Amelia."

"How-" I stopped myself, she probably knew my life story. She could probably fly.

I didn't even know any more.

"And you are quite right not to trust me."

We remained silent and I had many questions, but I was too tired for formality and I don't think my brain could handle much more before insisting on sleep.

"Do you have a birthday?" I asked, legitimately curious to the matter of fact.

It was principle, really, if I was not prepared for large amounts of information, I was able to force myself to contribute in small talk.

A small laugh left her mouth and she shook her head, "I don't need one, I can celebrate what I want when I want. Yourself?"

I thought for a second, birthdays were just like any other day to me,"I don't celebrate anything, if I'm honest. My birthday was recent, I celebrated by ignoring it in a lovely cell."

"You don't celebrate?" She scoffed, ignoring my cell comment, she understood what I wanted to - and didn't want to - talk about, that was respectable at least, "Where is the fun?"

I shrugged.

"Well," She grinned, a new found excitement in her eyes that worried me, I didn't want to think of anything she could have been planning, "I've been looking for a reason to throw the famous Pandora celebration, we must."

"Oh god no," I began, almost frantic, "I don't want a party, nothing like that, in fact, I'd be fine if we never spoke of it again. We don't even know each other."

"Psht, nonsense," She said as she stood up, a big smile on her face, "Make yourself comfortable in here, I picked it out especially for you. I think you will find everything you need somewhere, if you look good enough. Oh, and this will help you sleep,"

I accepted the small vile of clear liquid she handed me, but that didn't concern me almost as much as the party obscurity, "Pandora-"

"I was going to throw my infamous ball, I do it every couple of centuries, as you must understand. What can I say? I like to host, I am the best at it. I was dissapointed at the lack of reasoning for my event and now I have a reasoning for it," She interrupted, opening the door in a gleeful manor. As she stepped through, she smiled, "I have things to plan, until next time."

She waved teasingly at me and I face-palmed. She hands me a vile of weird liquid, claims it will help me sleep - was it that obvious I needed sleep? - and then tells me she was going to throw some large ball and that I would be the cause for event. I needed to stop her idiocy.

Immediately.

"Fucking hell," I said after falling back onto the bed.

I was really starting to dislike her.  
Who the fuck throws a ball? We weren't in Camelot or some shit. Oh wow. Oh wow. How many people does she even know? Are they even human?

I was going to be the cause for the event.

Fuck.

I had taken the liquid as I was desperate for sleep, what I did not appreciate was being awoken from that sleep. Did people not learn? Amelia Stark needed sleep. Imbeciles.

"Amelia, get up," The British voice cut through the darkness again, more persistent this time.

I didn't remember turning the lights off... They must have been automatic and turned off after I dozed away on the large bed. The large and comfortable bed. Warm too. And now he storms in here, waking me from my delightful sleep into the cold outside world when this world was so much more warm and delightful. I didn't want to get up, so I groaned and buried my head beneath the quilt like the inner child in me insisted I do.

"I shall only ask once more," His humoured voice continued.

I rolled onto my stomach and dug my head beneath the pillows, "Ask all you want, princess."

"Get up."

"I am quite content with where I am." I almost snapped - I wasn't a happy morning person.

He chuckled for a moment, before I heard him move, "Very well."

I felt his weight on the side of the bed and could imagine the mischievous green glint that would be so boldly mocking me. I sighed as I felt his hands on both of my arms, removing them from the pillow I kept on my head for safety against his godly tricks. I was definitely tired.

I shrugged his hands from me and sat up on my own accord, snappy and short circuited, "I hate you."

"Mhm," He hummed, I could literally hear the grin in his voice.

I couldn't see a thing in the darkness but I could feel how close he was.

I moved closer in hope that he'd see the look of disapproval and do-not-fuck-with-my-morning-brain on my face, "Don't try-"

I was cut off by his soft lips against mine unexpectedly and strange noise left my throat before I returned the favour. I really needed to talk to him, but I much preferred sleeping. I didn't want to bring it up in fear of the answer, I mean, this was the second time this wonder of the world happened and yet our behavior with each other had remained somewhat normal, except from earlier that day when he had snapped at me... And I at him. Typical, was it not?

I felt the air shift around me as he broke the kiss and my retinas adjusted to the light. The asshole was teleporting us. Mid-kiss.

"Son of a bitch," I scowled up at him as I saw my surroundings change to that of the living area. If 'ugh' was an emotion, that is what I would be feeling towards him because what sort of asshole does that?

I stepped away from him almost instantly, in an angered fashion, to move towards the fire because the urge to punch his little pretty face ___again_was overwhelming. Now lacking the warmth and protection of my quilt, I grumbled to myself and tried to absorb the heat from the fire. I was still wearing the horrible prison clothes and made a mental note to look in the wardrobes of my room as Pandora had suggested.

I quickly sent Loki a death glare and he returned it with a smirk.

"Now that we're all here," Pandora began, taking a moment for us all to face her, "I'd like to discuss our current predicament. Loki?"

He stepped back to present everybody at once, "As I'm sure you have all worked out, we are wanted by people who will stop at nothing to get us, we all know how good humans are at getting what they want. Stark and Thor, yourselves included for your aid in our escape, your heads are most likely wanted on a golden plater. Though I'd like to say that I care not for your demise, I owe you a debt and so we should move on with that."

Pandora nodded a little as Loki fought to keep himself from scowling at the words he spoke - he hated owing favours and so he was trying to clear the debt quickly. He also hated that he had to include his brother in this, when he so highly wanted to punch him... I understood that completely as I continued to neglect Stark. I realised Pandora must have been putting him up to this, because he kept glancing at her occasionally. I smirked at Loki, what a shame.

He took me from my bed unwillingly, I was allowed to be moody.

He narrowed his eyes slightly at me, so much so that nobody else seemed to notice as he continued, "I offer you refuge here to repay my debt, as Pandora has offered me refuge here."

To repay him.

Thor and Stark shared a glance before Stark nodded, "Uh, yeah. Thanks. I do need to contact Pepper, I imagine she is frantic as of now. And I need to fix up my suit before you kick my ass out when I've fulfilled my stay."

Pandora clapped her hands together as she thought, "Perfect. That's doable." She turned to Thor, "How about you, beanstalk?"

Thor nodded, ignoring the nickname as usual, "I shall accept."

I was still pissed off that Loki dragged me out of bed. I mean seriously.

"There are some things we need to discuss, but it can wait." Pandora said to both myself and Loki after she had ended her discussion with Thor, I had been too focused on the heat of the fire to care for much more.

Loki nodded as I furrowed my eyebrows at her. What could she possibly want now?

"Pandora, a word?" I seized my opportunity to put off her god damn party that I hadn't forgotten, she needed to stop the nonsense of trying to irritate me to my very core because right now it was working, if this was some master plan to push me over the edge, she was doing the right thing.

"Of course, my dear," She smiled, walking over to join me in front of the fire.

My dear? Fuck that.

We sat down not far from the fire, far enough so I could keep warm and maintain intrigued by the spiralling flares that danced on the burning embers. I took a moment to glance at her, noticing how the fire was reflected clearly in her bright red eyes, making them look aglow as it cast shadows along her sharp, grey-skinned cheek bones. I could see the shadows that danced along her face and tattoo with each lick of flame, she was a truly beautiful being.

"Why do you owe Loki?" I asked, cutting through the small and comfortable silence we had fallen into.

Loki was elsewhere as though he had simply disappeared and Thor and Stark discussed something else in thorough detail. I didn't care for what as I finally had my opportunity for answers and my usual curiosity was getting the better of me.

"I believe that is for him to tell you," She replied, tucking a strand of her long, silky hair behind her pointed ear.

"What is this place?" I decided, curious of where my next few days were going to be spent.

She smiled proudly, "For me, my home. For humans, a simple manor. For others, a place to stay in their secret visits to Earth. This is where I live and work, it is open to all that are willing to pay enough."

"Where you work?" I diverted my attention back to the fire and pulled my legs to my chest.

"Yes," She nodded, "This may all seem too secluded to you, but that is because this is only one branch of what I own. Those who look properly know how to contact me if they wish to stay. I plan on moving you all to the main dimension so that I can continue my work, but I'm not sure how you or Stark will react. Or Thor for that matter. I'm an alchemist if that means anything to you."

"Ah... Dimension?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Well, we are on Earth. In a way. I'm assuming that you know of the nine realms - and that earth is the gateway between two realities?" She began, waiting for my nod before continuing, "Part of Earth is closer to Yggdrasil, you were asleep so you were not able to witness the passing between realities, but we sit just between the realities."

"Basically, this is an interdimensional hotel?" I asked with a smile.

She laughed a little, "Precisely. Many people passing between the nine realms and elsewhere seek refuge or rest. I am here to provide that."

"As well as brewing potions?" I teased, not fully aware of what her job was but glad that I had a faint idea.

She chuckled, shaking her head a little, "Not quite. Magic isn't a necessity with what I do, there are many plants that provide that for me. Most of which are not on Earth, many people trade them for stay. I sell my potions to almost everyone, from kings and queens to measly faeling. All humans can see is that this looks like a large house, magic is the reason for that, though."

I tried to digest what I had just heard, but I was unsure of that possibility. Dimensions, realities, magic... Banner would have a field trip explosion.

I wondered what the other Avengers were thinking at this stage - had both Thor and Stark gone mad? Breaking out fugitives? Becoming fugitives?

"Pandora," I started, thinking of any possible outcome, "You weren't serious about the party/ball/renaissance era thing, right?"

She chuckled, not lifting her eyes from where they were focused on the fire, "I rarely lie, if I do, it has purpose."

"I lie a lot," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else, "I'm fluent at it."

The truth was that lying is all I knew how to do, we've all lied before - say different and you're the liar. There was too much going on in my life and I needed to sort it out... I should probably make a list. A mental list of course, I hadn't saw paper in this place.

1) Discuss Loki... With Loki.

2) Discuss Stark... With Stark.

3) Figure out what to do about the glass implanted in my stomach that was buried beneath a layer of skin due to Loki's healing.

4) Discuss leaving Earth.

5) Get out of the party... Ball.

6) Maybe talk to someone about my appetite.

7) Throw myself out of a window-

"What is on your mind?" Pandora said, now looking at me with her head cocked to the side, studying me carefully.

I sighed, blinking to clear my thoughts, "Too much. Too little."

"You'll get there. Wherever it is that you want to go, you will get there," Pandora smiled, and then I felt her hand on my shoulder, "You remind me of him. You'll get what you want."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, "Comparing me to that god? Wow, that is something."

"I am pretty breathtaking," Loki introduced himself from behind, I was too buried in thought to even jump, "Should my ears be burning?"

"Are they on fire?" I answered, turning my head to look at him with a smile.

Pandora snorted and stood up, "I think you have ends to tie, my dear. When and how you tie them is your own choice; but you will always have someone to catch you when you fall. I have realised that now."

Loki scoffed, "And Amelia thought I was the wise one."

Pandora rolled her eyes, clasping his shoulder in one hand, "In due time."


	20. Chapter 20

I was beginning to hate sleep. Why was it so difficult for me to sleep? Because something always found a way to wake me fucking up. I was short-circuited and out of power to give a shit. I wouldn't mind if the reasoning for my awakening was to have some food, like bacon. I hadn't had bacon in quite a few months. Maybe I should buy bacon. Everybody likes bacon, right?

Except this time, I wasn't awoken by another soul, lest they still be standing. Breathing. Oh no, this was because of, possibly, the searing pain that exploded through one side of my torso from mid-rib cage to the top of my thigh like I was being torn apart from the inside out, and I literally mean torn, it felt as though my muscles were ripping. That may or may not have been because of the glass. The wound had re-opened. That fucking piece of glass was still in my stupid body. Kudos to my damn brain for forgetting about the piece of glass that was so happily lodged in my side like a literal blade of fury.

I clenched my fists in the bed sheets as another wave of pain washed over my body and a small whimper left my throat as I gripped the bed sheets harder. I pushed myself upwards onto my elbows and the lights came on as though on queue. I gasped.

"Ah, shit."

There was a lot of blood.

I stood up and pressed both of my hands to my side, how could a wound that had healed on the surface re-open? ___Temporarily healed._ I had no idea but it was apparently possible as all I could do was try and cease the bleeding. Anything was possible if magic was even slightly involved, it just fucked up the whole logic continuum of life. At least I wasn't drunk this time though something told me a strong and burning alcohol would have been a blessing to subside this stupid pain.

What choice had I? I had nothing to stitch the wound forgetting the fact that there was a piece of glass still in my side, I wasn't exactly a surgeon. Or a doctor. Or someone who had any first-aid profession. The thought of asking for help was not on my possible list of things to do today; I was not asking for help, going to Pandora would be beyond humiliating. Humiliation or death? Right now, I preferred the latter.

My hands clasped my bedroom door as I yanked it open raggedly due to the weakening of my arms, I was leaving a mess of blood wherever I touched with my hands and my hands slipped from the door knob due to the blood. I would probably regret that, didn't blood stain? Time was of the essence - for once - as I was unsure how much more blood I could deem lose-able before my life became lose-able. Not much more, I presumed as I remembered the pool of blood that had christened my bed.

Now all I had to do was find my way to the small room where we had first gathered, someone was bound to be there, I just hoped it was someone I wouldn't mind owing my life to... If I ended up dying I may as well be dramatic about it. Go out with a bang or so they say. All I could actually do was stagger with the help of the walls, fighting to stay awake, there was just so much blood. Too much blood to be healthy. Considering my luck, I'd faint and die of blood loss before someone found me. If that was the case then I so deeply hoped someone would find me before the actual bleeding-out part managed to occur.

I came across the usual wooden doors and let out a sigh of relief. My legs barely supported my weight as I pushed with any last reserve of strength I could conjure, hoping it would be enough to get the doors to open. The doors slid open quite fast which resulted in me falling forwards, bringing my hands back to clutch the wound unsteadily.

Both Pandora's and Loki's head snapped in my direction as I let out a groan and stumbled further into the room, I saw Loki's smile fall as he jumped to his feet, concern apparent in his eyes and panic apparent in his behaviour.

That's what I called friendship development.

"I don't think I can get myself out of this mess," I tried with a smile as my legs wobbled and I lost my balance, hitting the floor quite painfully.

The pain was growing and my veins were burning as they pumped my blood to the inevitable end, I wished for unconsciousness to steal me but the pain kept me wide awake. Before I could register what was happening, Loki was by my side and Pandora stayed slightly behind. I could see her eyes in the midst of my mind's chaos, they were wide and alert as they fell to my wound.

"I'm sorry for getting blood everywhere," I continued, trying to push myself up from the ground but largely failing as my arms shook heavily.

"Just lay back," Loki said calmly, reaching for my hands that clutched my side, he was leaning over me and the time didn't feel appropriate to joke.

He pulled my hands away and studied my wound before his eyes widened and he said something to Pandora, who disappeared. His words didn't register in my mind as I stared down at his hands upon my side. His hands were now covered in my blood and his pale skin stood out against the dark crimson like murder on fresh snow.

"Oh Amelia, I forgot, I forgot," I heard him say as I closed my eyes to try and block out the pain, "I'm so sorry, how could I forget this?"

I forced my eyes open, I would do this properly, "I'm certain this is my fault, not yours."

"Amelia, this is bad, I could have healed it before-"

"Loki." I groaned yet refrained from shouting due to the pain, "Shut up you idiot."

He shook his head with a small smile, "I thought you were supposed to blame m- Amelia?"

I finally felt the familiar black hole behind my eyelids and I allowed myself to fall into the familiar void in which I seemed to visit a lot as of late. I looked up at Loki as his green eyes began to fade from my sight but I could see him lift his hand to my face.

"Amelia, stay with me-"

***  
******Avenger's P.O.V**

"Are you seriously expecting us to believe that bullshit?" Barton scoffed at Fury who was standing at the front of the small room with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, Agent Barton," A voice that wasn't Fury sounded, "And we're expecting you to follow the order."

"I don't work for you," He snapped as he stood up, forcing his chair backwards so fast it almost fell backwards.

The woman sighed as though Barton was a child, "Don't force our hand, Agent Barton."

"How about you and your little gang of fuckwads piss off?" He wasn't taking none of it, he and Stark had been almost-brothers for as long as he could remember... He wouldn't just wake up and turn all villainy because some stupid god had another world domination plan.

"Barton," Banner interrupted, placing a hand on Barton's arm to grab his attention.

Barton turned to stare incredulously, "Please tell me you don't believe this."

Banner's face remained neutral, "Sit down."

Barton caught onto Banner's actions of don't-piss-off-the-council and I'm-not-turning-all-green-to-save-your-ass-again and finally sat down with a huff. He glanced at Natasha and Rogers as he did, noting their straight faces and he hoped to god that they didn't believe the bullshit The Council was spouting.

"Are we clear, Director?" A man's voice asked.

"Crystal." Fury replied before ending the call.

"I call bullshit," Barton began, earning a roll of the eyes from Fury.

"Do we know of Loki and co's location?" Fury asked Agent Hill who Barton hadn't even noticed at the back of the room.

"No, sir." She shook her head.

"Sir-" Barton began, forcing himself to refrain from exploding in blatant rampage.

"Good. Keep it that way, make sure nobody, including us, finds them." He nodded at her and she left.

Each person within the room - except Natasha, typically - stared wide eyed at the Director who walked from the room, whistling on his way as though nothing had happened - he had just sent order that defied everything that The Council had just said, including remaining oblivious to their location.

Barton turned to Natasha expectantly.

She sighed at Barton's automatic assumption, "He, Coulson and some other agent aided Thor and Stark's house party."

"House part- You mean Fury was working with Tony and Thor when they broke into that base...?" Banner asked.

"Yes," Natasha replied, "Do you honestly think that we'd be so easily convinced that Thor and Stark decided to become fugitives for the fun of it?"

"When did you plan on telling us exactly?" Barton quipped, feeling a little hurt at the fact nobody had decided to tell him this.

Damn spy friends.

"That doesn't matter," Steve began, "What matters is what The Council were saying. Who is Amora?"

"She's Asgardian," Natasha informed, "And is a little obsessed with the two sons of Odin. I agree Clint, every word she's fed The Council was pure bullshit. We now have a mad witch hunt on our hands down to her. She's up to something."

Barton already hated the idea of this Amora character, due fact that she was working with The Council so willingly, what could she possibly give them that resulted in her being this new, mighty hero? What could they possibly give her in return? Which meant she was using them, but what the hell for? The Council were a childish conspiracy. Amora was like Loki-

Joanna. If it wasn't Loki who left that magic signature then who else? Why would she target Amy like that? She only wanted Loki. Barton began to clench his fists in anger - he wasn't made to sit idle doing nothing, he was supposed to be out on the field and fucking shit up. He should have gone with Stark - he was a little pissed that Stark hadn't told him of his plans to break Amy out, but he would only take such action if it was needed and Barton didn't want to think about the reasons that caused him to take such action. Unless they had done something extravagant to Amy.

He knew The Council and their ways and he didn't agree with them one bit.

******Amelia's P.O.V**

I felt tingly. Warm. Fuzzy. A non-suicidal type of pins and needles. My brain felt replaced by cotton wool and everything felt... Nice. Considering what I could feel, which wasn't actually much to be frank. My head felt calm and spongey, that's when I came to realise that I couldn't actually feel the rest of my body. Not to panic or anything... But why the fuck couldn't I feel my toes? Or my fingers? Or anywhere that wasn't my head? If I recalled correctly, these things were supposed to be ___there_.

I couldn't open my eyes for that matter, either. I couldn't feel myself breathe, but I wasn't panicking as though being smothered. It was calm. I felt as though my eyelids were non existent and everything was so damn warm. Like I was under water-

I jolted upwards with a splutter for air above the surface of the water. Water... ___Water?_ I brought my hands to my face and tried to rub the water from my eyes, my vision was still blurry and I was blinking rapidly. I was in a bath. At least I could feel my toes again. Okay. A bath. ___I was in a bath._

"She awakens," I heard a smug voice from nearby and I froze.

My eyes wandered down to my naked body and I froze. Naked. I forced myself to focus, to breathe... The glass. My hands instantly moved to my side and I sighed in relief as my hands came into contact with a stitched wound... I was expecting no wound, considering I was housed with a elf and a witch. I meant Loki.

___I was fucking naked._

"You gave us a scare," The voice continued and I crossed my hands over my chest to cover my breasts.

I slowly turned my head to the side, realising my finger tips had gone wrinkly due to the prolonged time in water... How long had I been in this bath? Naked? My eyes scanned the dimly lit room until they came into contact with the red of Pandora's eyes. I stared at her in disbelief and she just smiled back.

"No need to cover up, who do you think put you in the bath?"

In that small moment, I wanted to leap from the bath and retort something hateful at her, but I was still naked and something was telling me I should be thankful that I was not a mere corpse.

"Why are you in that bath?" Pandora walked towards me, grabbing a towel as she did so, "It has healing powders dissolved into the water, it was a precaution we had to take."

She held out the towel and I grabbed it, opening it up so I could stand behind the protection of it. I wrapped it around myself and climbed from the bath, almost slipping as I did so. I looked at Pandora with a scowl as she held out some clothes, or should I say a casual dress and tights?

"I am not wearing those." I stated.

Pandora just shrugged and I could see the corner of her lips twitch into an almost smirk.

"I may as well walk around naked considering you've all seen me already!" I paused in realisation, "Wh-"

"Just myself and Loki," She rolled her eyes and my jaw hung open.

Talk about violation.

"I'm not wearing those clothes." I started to walk past her and for some reason I was pissed off.

I had been stitched up successfully, I was still alive, I was still breathing and no longer bleeding, and yet, knowing that Loki had-

The thought embarrassed me.

I stormed past Pandora in my towel and through the door ignoring the god's damn face outside the bathroom door and continued my journey to 'my' room. I also happened to come across another two faces that I didn't want to see and so I added them to my 'ignore today' list. Call me immature but everything about this was wrong.

I just wanted to put some normal clothes on and leave. I wanted to go anywhere but here, the walls were suffocating me and I didn't want anything to do with anybody I knew. The past couple of weeks had changed me so vastly that I had almost forgotten who I was and what I stood for. Which was myself. I stood for myself and everybody else was supposed to mean nothing.

And those disgusting battle scars that now painted both my legs and arms made me feel sick to look at - I still refused to acknowledge the torture, but I was now a map of horrible scars. Loki had looked at them. I had been so vulnerable and stupid... The glass was my own fault and nobody else's and now I owed them both my life.

As soon as I entered my room and closed the door, I felt my heart sink to my stomach and I slid down the door, my eyes staring straight ahead without wavering as my mind exploded. I needed to think. I needed to clear my head before my flood gates cracked, I would not let myself break. Cracks could be fixed and painted over. Forgotten.

Was I a mere crack on a wall to Loki?

Oh, Amelia, you fool. ___Emotions get you killed. Everything gets you killed._ That's what I had been taught, was it not? That's what I had the audacity of saying. When had it all gone so wrong? That night in the car park when he had shown up. When he had shown up and taken me unwillingly to a fucking spaceship. Granted, I had wanted to disappear but what right had he to do such a thing? We were supposed to finish the stupid plan and be gone.

He was supposed to use me and I was supposed to use him. I was just his ___pawn_, I was always the pawn in a game so vast there was no ending in sight, nor an ending ever recorded. That left me with the question; what was he using me for now? God of chaos, god of destruction - he didn't know the meaning of good so what was his game this time?

He had been in my mind, he used my sympathy for him...

I wanted to go.

I didn't care about any other cause for side-track, I didn't care for going elsewhere that was not earth, I needed to leave here. I wanted everything to go back to the way it was, I was Amelia Stark, heartless extraordinaire, invisible, non-existent.

Alone.


	21. Chapter 21

"Amy, I'm saying this once more. What is the point in going anywhere? Don't be so idiotic," Stark stepped into my path and I glanced up at him scowling, "Where would you go? Or has it slipped your mind that an alternate illuminati has a bounty on your ass?"

"Get out of my way, Stark," I said through gritted teeth, "I have nothing to say to you."

Stark looked over my head to Loki with a look of utter blasphemy and disbelief, "And you? You're just going to let her walk out?"

I heard Loki's calm voice, "It's her choice."

I straightened my posture, my morals slowly returning for better and for worse. I glanced over my shoulder to look at him, he stood with his head high and his legs shoulder length apart, no hint of what he was thinking was detectable upon his face, but he wasn't looking at me. He hadn't looked at me since I demanded my departure.

I could see Pandora watching silently by his side. As always.

I stepped around Stark, just to be stopped by Thor who just frowned, "What if one of us were to accompany you?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little, punching his arm as I stepped around him, "I'm going, alone. Sorry buddy."

I had finally managed to shut Stark up after telling him he was not to follow me or I would never speak to him againand thankfully his suit was disassembled as it was mid-repair. Luck was on my side for once. He looked extremely pissed off and yet I didn't feel good about it, I didn't feel bad about it either but I used to get a kick out of being a cause of his suffering. I was just merely plain, I couldn't really feel a specific emotion except this urge to leave the walls of this place, they seemed to grow smaller by the second and I just needed to go.

I looked at the wall of rock that stood in front of me, the greyness stood out against its wallpapered surroundings and I raised my fingers hesitantly to it.

"I just touch it, right?" I asked to Pandora, she nodded once and I took a steady breath in.

I stepped forward and my fingers came into contact with the solid rock for a mere second and I was filled with the all too familiar feeling of being taken apart and rebuilt with bubbles. I swayed a little and almost fell but luckily I managed to find a tree to steady myself.

At least I had the intelligence to grab a jacket...

I was in the midst of a frozen forest.

******Loki's P.O.V**

Loki sat on the arm of the sofa with his feet upon the sofa and his fingers splayed beneath his neck in a thoughtful fashion. He hadn't said anything for the past ten minutes, he just sat and remained silent, both Thor and Stark had removed themselves from his company in fear of pushing him over the edge. He should have stopped her - it was too late now - but he couldn't make himself stop her leaving. What would that have gained? This was Amelia, she was stubborn and she seemed to have her mind set on leaving. He didn't know what to think, should he be angered? Agitated?

Hurt? Blasphemy.

She was a simple human.

But that was no longer the case to him, not after what they had been through. They. Not him or her alone, they had been through it together and Loki could feel her absence like it was a physical feature of the air. Like a massive lack of oxygen. His magic tingled beneath his finger tips, his confusion had caused it to spike in wariness.

What was he supposed to do?

It was not as if she was supposed to mean something to him. But she did. He knew it, and that's why he didn't stop her. She was gone. She had left and a part of Loki was thankful, humans were exactly that. Human. Puny. Meaningless. ___They were made to be ruled._

Except her.

Pandora sitting by his feet caught his attention but his eyes didn't move from the point on the wall where they had been focused for the whole entirety of his time within the room. He knew she was staring at him, trying to grab some sense of what he was thinking. Even he was naive to what he was truly feeling, she was gone; this was good, he had no distractions, no weakness. He couldn't return to Asgard, and he was certain Thor wouldn't allow him to slip away easily, but he would cross that stream when it came to be. Right now, he was focused on matters at hand.

"Loki, don't do that." Pandora began.

He finally dropped his eyes from the wall to meet hers, furrowing his eyebrows at her. Don't do what? He wasn't do anything, he was emersed deep in thought.

"Don't make me force you." She pushed.

He sighed, "What is it, Pandora?"

"Are you kidding me?" She sat back with a huff, "Don't get all bitchy with me."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she stared back as he rolled his eyes, "Are you going to explain this nonsense or shall I just sit in silence?"

"As much as I'd appreciate you shutting up, I can't believe you're doing this," She crossed one of her legs over the other, "You really don't do relationships well."

He sighed again, "She left, not me. And it was barely a friendship."

"Exactly." She stood up and held out her hand, "Now is your chance to go and find her."

"I'm not-"

"Loki." She said sternly, "Yes you are."

"Pandora," He returned, "I don't know why you've conjured this vision of myself and her but you are wrong."

"Is that so?" She dropped her hand and cocked her head to the side, "You clash, she's human and you're ___you._"

"Exactl-" He stopped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have to let go, Loki." She reached for his hand and took it into hers, "Stuff happens, people die, bombs explode and you? You need to go and find her."

Loki remained silent but Pandora pulled him up forcefully, "Trust me Loki, forget your destructive tendency for a few moments, let yourself live. Go and find Amy."

******Amelia's P.O.V**

I hated snow. I hated ice. I hated trees. I hated bushes. I hated freezing cold water. I hated wind. I hated wild animals. I hated a lot of things right now. I was cold, I was wet, I was aching and I was pretty sure that I had almost ripped the stitches in my side multiple times. Mostly because I had fallen down stupid mole holes that were full with wonderfully warm snow and little ditches that decided to appear beneath my feet.

My foot caught the underside of a tree root and I began to fall forward before an arm wrapped around my waist and I was halted mid fall. I froze, my heart skipping, in the same position and allowed my eyes to fall down to the arm. For once I was surprised to see the green upon black leather and I allowed myself to loosen up with a sigh.

I pulled myself from his grip and stepped over the root as I spun to scowl at him, "Were you following me?"

"I didn't need to," He smirked and I scoffed.

I turned back around to march on away from him, muttering something about stupid magic and stupid gods. My arm was caught in his grip and I shook him off.

"Loki, just go back to Pandora and her magical hotel bullshit."

He chuckled and I stole a glance at him, his eyes were wide and gleaming amidst the white surroundings when I was certain a month ago his eyes would have cut me open for merely being snappy. The green was almost aglow and I found myself unable to look away, almost hypnotised, so I took a careful step backwards to gain at least some personal space for once. He stepped forwards as I stepped back and my heart rate started to speed, let's not play this game. Not today. Not now. Not when I was so set on leaving. Again.

"Loki," I managed to push out, barely audible as though my throat threatened to fail me, "Just leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," His head tilted to the side, "Without you."

I stared wide eyed and my jaw threatened to hit the floor. And then it happened.

I stepped forwards, almost slipping from the force I had pushed into my legs, he stepped forwards at the same time and our lips collided with such force that I had to hold onto Loki's shoulders for mere balance. There was an explosion of sensation as our lips began to move together and my back came into contact with a tree.

I ran my hands up his back, feeling each curve - each plate - of his spine, tracing over his sharp shoulder blades and into his hair, tangling my fingers between the fine strands to pull him down further as his hands lingered on the back of my neck. His teeth bit down on my bottom lip, causing me to make a rather inhuman sound and I automatically opened my mouth. I felt his tongue run over my bottom row of teeth and I almost moaned with pleasure.

I could make out a distinct taste of orange and I almost laughed. The god of fuckery tasted like orange.

I pulled away to breathe and he took this as an opportunity to trace kisses along my jaw to my ear lobe, I felt his teeth graze down on beneath my ear and I arched my back away from the tree, exposing more of my neck to the god. I could feel each place in which he had planted a kiss for it left my skin feeling as though it were glowing.

His lips moved down to my neck and I could feel tension beginning to build in the pit of my stomach as he bit down onto a certain part of my neck that caused me to literally gasp for air. I could feel his smile against my skin before he started leaving marks wherever he deemed fit upon my skin.

I placed one of my hands on his chest and trailed my hand slowly downwards and he leaned into the touch until my fingers came to rest on the hem of his trousers, I teasingly lifted the hem of his shirt and grazed my fingers along his soft skin before I stopped and laughed airily.

"Loki, we're in a forest." I started and he paused with his lips on my shoulder.

He lifted his eyes to meet mine and brought his head back to level with mine, a sly smirk tugging at his lips, "That we are, darling."

I resisted the urge to let my hand travel further down his torso.

"Anything could be watching," I whispered teasingly.

His head lowered to mine once again and he kissed me, but a lot slower this time. When he pulled away, my eyes dropped to his perfectly shaped, red with cold, swollen with friction lips. His right hand was cupped on my face and it stayed there as he looked down on me.

Little clouds of water vapour were leaving my mouth in little pants and I didn't fail to notice that Loki's breath had no effect on the air - wrong place, wrong time.

"Come back with me," He asked, his eyes hopeful.

You look at that god and ___you_ try to say no to those eyes.

I sighed, "If we must."

Surprisingly enough, Loki hadn't zapped us back to the magical hotel - I really needed to stop calling it that. Instead, we had walked back - we had just walked and talked, and I had occasionally tried to push him into a couple of frozen bushes and he hadn't killed me. The cold hadn't seemed to bother him, whereas I was in fear of losing limbs to frostbite. It was a nice, little walk and everything seemed to be calm for once; everything was slow, almost nice.

Even once we had returned, we didn't go sit with the others and I had found myself in my bedroom, digging out dry clothes as Loki sat on my bed. Loki had let them know that I had decided to stay, I couldn't be bothered too look at their smug faces as of yet.

"Do you just plan on just sitting there and staring at me?" I grinned teasingly as I had found my desired clothing.

He smirked at me, "If you insist."

I faltered for a moment, remembering why I had been so pissed off earlier that day. I moved over to him, only sitting on the edge of the bed because my clothes were still wet.

"I-"

His hand grasping mine caught my attention, "I don't know what to say, as nothing I could conjure would be enough to relieve the fact that it was I who was at fault."

"You were just trying to help, I get it." I tried, ignoring how British he actually sounded.

"No, I stripped you of your choice by doing so. I took away whatever options you had, and for me to see you without cover is a decision that only you should make. I'm sorry, Amelia." He apologised and I sent him a small smile before standing up.

"It was quite... Uh," I sighed, "It was humiliating to say the least. I mean, I've not exactly got-" I paused, "You know what I mean."

Loki's furrowed eyebrows told me otherwise. He must have seen the scars that of had gained from slight misconnection of missions gone wrong and... The torture.

"My scars, my torn up body, my legs and arms, the horrible ridges-"

"Are a memory of the battles you have won." He interrupted.

"Yeah," I looked away, "But you don't scar and I get left with disgusting skin to show for it."

I glanced back at him as he stood, slowly and meaningfully. He moved towards me, his eyes lingering on my arms for I had taken off my jacket. He raised his hand to my upper arm, his fingers barely touching the surface which almost burned with anticipation. He trailed his hand to my face before allowing his eyes to meet mine.

I could wholeheartedly say that he was the one to initiate it this time.

He leaned down slowly, merely pressing his lips to mine before he paused and took my hands in his. He stepped back and I was partially confused until he sat me down on the edge of the bed. He sat down next to me and I leant up to taste him once again, but I was an impatient person. Don't get me wrong, kissing was great, it was even better with him, but like I said... Impatient.

I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him until he was laid on the bed, smirking at his surprised eyes, and I followed suit, but I started with the bottom of his neck. My teeth grazed his skin and I bit down, the small, quickened breath that escaped him urged me on all the more. I continued to move up his neck, suckling on a section of skin that left a mark. It would only be temporary, damn god healing voodoo. I brought my lips to his jaw, tracing closer to his lips before teasingly brushing my lips against his.

I stopped for a moment, before straddling his torso and leaning down to catch his lips. He turned us over and I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle due to our reversed situations - except now he lay on me. I thought ___I_ was impatient.

I tugged at the hem of his tshirt and he pushed himself up for a moment, long enough for me to pull it up and over his head. I smiled at him before throwing the shirt to the side, tracing my hands up his lightly toned yet pale body.

A thought sprung to mind and I almost laughed aloud as I moved one of my hands to his ass. His ass was perfectly shaped... Knew it.

It was his turn to tug at my vest and to say that I didn't hesitate would be a lie, but then I remembered that he had seen me fully naked so I had nothing to be afraid of. He moved to the side of me so that I could push myself up by my elbows. He peeled the wet vest over my head, leaving me in just my bra and trousers. Skin on skin.

I took advantage of the situation by pushing him into his back again and crawling up his frame, not forgetting to lightly trace my fingers over his growing-hard member. I could see that he tried to refrain from thrusting up to my hand, so instead I cupped him trough his trousers and smiled at the small moan that left his lips as I stroked him before removing my hand.

I moved myself upwards and his hands gripped my waist to pull me down.

I was about to inquire about the removal of his pants, before-

"What. The. Fuck?" I heard Stark's angered tone.


	22. Chapter 22

"Well, this is unfortunate," I said as I pushed myself from Loki, including removing my leg from where it straddled his thigh.

Loki remained silent and his face remained straight - honestly how am I supposed to make do with this guy? - the only actions he took were to hand me his black tunic-like shirt he had beneath his usual leather on fabric attire. I took it and pulled it on, making the whole ordeal all the more frustrating for Stark.

My uncle just walked in on me getting hot and heavy with a Norse god.

Well shit.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He exploded, causing my eyes to flicker up to where he stood.

The tunic made me feel like a gothic pirate.

"Well right now I'm thinking that these doors need locks..." I started before seeing his eyes flare with anger, "Oh... Before? Well I'm unaware if you've had ___the talk_ before but I was certain you'd fucked a woman before. Several at once if the papers were right.."

I glanced at Loki who seemed to be letting me deal with this how I pleased.

"I won't allow you to-"

"Wrong choice of words." I interrupted, "In fact I'd say wrong choice of business. Get out, Stark. This doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't concern me?" He stepped further into the room and I closed my eyes, "Amy, I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

"I think you missed that opportunity seven years ago, Tony." I said calmly, my eyes remaining closed, "Now get out."

"I would suggest you do as she says, or is a little help required?" I could almost here the smirk in Loki's voice.

I opened my eyes to look at a growing-angrier-by-the-second Stark, I was almost-certain breathing fire was an option for him, "Listen here-"

"I changed my mind," I said to Loki, "We should visit Pandora."

I held out my hand and Loki laughed as he understood before my surroundings flicked and I found myself sitting next to Pandora on the sofa, who didn't blink nor twitch at my sudden arrival, she merely raised an eyebrow at my change of clothing. I had forgotten about Loki's lack of upper-body clothing and yet when I glanced at him he appeared fully clothed. That was cheating.

Pandora went back to flicking through picture after picture of what appeared to be dresses before muttering, "Three, two, one..."

The two main doors were flung open aggressively and Stark stormed in after them, he appeared to be seething.

"Save it," I said and Pandora raised an eyebrow.

I could tell she was a woman of many facial expressions.

"No, I won't," He stepped towards me and I saw Thor's furrowed eyebrows from the corner of my eye, "All I want to do is be here for you, Amy. I'm only trying to protect you - all I've ever done is try to protect you! Why do you think I allowed you to move to England? To be away from me. To be away from anything that involves me. To protect you."

"You say that as though you're in control of the actions I wish to take," I began, "Much ___protection_ that did, if you're forgetting I'm two parents down yet you still seem to be standing."

So yeah, I lost my shit.

I stood to face him, "Don't you dare throw around those words. You did fuck all for me. You were neck deep in alcohol and sex you couldn't spare a single thought for me or my dad! Or are you forgetting that it was you who let him die?"

"Amy," His anger was slowly replaced by a pained expression, "I was a disgusting excuse for a man-"

"You still are." I interrupted.

He stopped, frozen still, and rubbed his face with his hands, "Right. Yeah. Got it. I still am."

He turned on his heel and left, leaving all eyes on me. Too harsh? Yes. Was he just looking out for me? Stupidly enough, yes. Did I have any fucks to give? Hell no.

I heard Thor take in a breath to comment, but I raised a hand to silence him, "No, Thor."

His mouth shut again and I sat down in the awkward silence.

"And before any of you bring it up, I am not going to speak to him. If he wishes to revel alone in self pity then let him, he doesn't have my sympathy."

I had been in Stark's company for no more than twenty minutes and my patience had run to the ground, and therefore when he tried to bring the subject up once again, I lost my shit... Once again. I understood that he was trying to take on the role of family - it didn't mean I wanted him to - and I understood that he was pissed about finding myself and Loki, shall we say in compromising posteriors, but he had no right to tell me what I could and couldn't do. I also understood that Loki was Loki, so from Stark's perspective, I'd lost all sanity. Which was always a considerable possibility.

"I don't want to hear it, Stark," I tried to shut him up.

"He's a Norse god, and what, ten thousand years old?" Stark scoffed, causing Loki to snort.

"Not quite," Loki muttered.

"Amy, you're just being-"

"I've had enough!" I almost growled as I stood, "You can't expect to be involved in my life, never mind control it! You arrogant, self centred-"

"Amelia," I heard Loki's voice try in a calming manor.

"-prick; where were you when we needed you? When ___I_ needed you? I want you out of my sight as soon as humanely possible."

I felt his hand grasp my arm and I saw red, what gave him the right to touch me? I grabbed his wrist with my hand aggressively and he let go in surprise - he was far stronger than I - and I brought my fist up in a flurry of movement but before my fist could connect with anywhere near his face as I had so deeply lusted, my hand was caught in a firm grip and I froze, panting slightly.

Didn't I once say I hated being restricted?

I struggled in Thor's grip, his holding of my fist did nothing to calm my anger and I could feel the pumping of adrenaline in my veins. I had this anger in my chest and I could feel it, silently waiting to explode. I fought against Thor's grip, thrashing to the extent that I was certain would leave bruises on my arms. He needed to let me go, I had started to panic.

"Thor, let me g-"

Before I could finish my sentence, Thor's grip was gone and he now lay on the floor and Stark was being pinned against the wall by a pissed-looking Loki. It happened so fast I stumbled backwards and almost fell.

What did I miss?

Thor pushed himself up, pure confusion on his face as he stood. I was already on edge and him taking a step towards me did not help my anger or jittery mood. He'd grabbed my fucking hand.

"Do not touch her," Loki spat over his shoulder at Thor who jumped backwards almost instantly and out of my personal bubble.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, trying to calm my breathing. Where was Pandora when you needed her?

"And you," Loki growled at Stark who was now struggling against Loki's hand due to the cut-off of air, "Do you have any idea how much I want to rip your petty lungs from your chest?"

Something told me I should intervene. Loki looked... Somewhat insane.

"I have a small idea," Stark spluttered causing Loki to push him with more force into the wall.

"I would have torn you apart and fed you to the animals but I have not. Do you know why that is? That is because of Amelia. But you," Loki's lip curled in a snarl, "You have used up all of my patience."

From my perspective, I'd say this was the end for Stark. Best to intervene. I saw Pandora enter the room from the corner of my eye and within seconds she was stood beside me with an almost hopeful look.

"Say something to him."

I scoffed, trying to keep one eye on Loki, "He's pissed, why would he listen to me?"

Pandora raised an eyebrow and I sighed, pacing myself closer to him.

"Loki," I tried calmly, hating Pandora all the more, "Stop for a second." I placed my hand on his shoulder and I felt the tendons soften almost immediately, "Just calm down, you think like a god when you're calm."

I smiled at my own joke and he took a big breath in, loosening his grip on Stark slightly, but not fully. That was when his head turned to look at me.

"Say the word, and I shall end him."

I almost choked as the words registered in my mind. He was asking me if... He was giving me the opportunity to take revenge, even though everything else had fallen through, even though he could no longer take revenge, he was asking if I wanted mine. I wasn't exactly sure... I didn't want him dead. But why did it matter? He was the only remaining blood relation. Why should I care? I shouldn't. But it felt wrong. So very wrong. A month ago, I would have been tempted. A month ago, I wouldn't have cared. A month ago, Loki wouldn't hesitate in killing me, no less Stark.

"Just let him go, Loki." I stepped backwards as Loki opened his hand and Stark slipped down the wall and doubled over for breath.

Loki's back was still to me and it was as though everything in the room had gone cold. I looked to Pandora, who was studying Stark, the same went for Thor. I raised my eyes to the frozen posture of Loki and a horrible, sickly feeling exploded in my stomach when he turned. There was the blue glint in his eyes, the unnatural colour that I had no indication of intelligence about. Nobody had seemed to realise and yet I found myself struggling to breathe.

"Your days of isolation have weakened you." And with that he was gone.

Well fuck you too.

Stark was holding onto the wall, a pale expression etched on his face.

He tried to say something but I forced myself past him and to the double doors, "I am done with you."

It turned out that the pictures of dresses I had recently seen Pandora looking through were a collection of pictures that ___I_ had to look through... There was no way in hell I was attending that party. Ball. ___A fucking ball._ I wasn't even aware of the existence of such a thing modernly and now I was forced to sit with Pandora who was still ignoring my pleas of discontent.

"I'm not fond of any," I huffed and threw the pictures back down onto the table.

I was not going to the damn alien fest.

"Truly? Or is that just another try at wagering your way out of this?" Pandora's humoured smirk bore down at me.

Attempt number one of distraction.

"So... You're an alchemist?"

"Dresses." She gave me another stack of pictures.

Attempt number two.

"Are there aliens present in-"

"Amy." She interrupted.

Accidental attempt number three.

"Did you notice the discolouration of Loki's eyes?" I said before realising.

Pandora paused and her eyes were raised to my face as though in disbelief, "Meaning?"

I sighed, tired of repeating the story, "His eyes are green, in New York they were blue. Yesterday they were green, earlier they were blue tinted."

Pandora's face dropped for a moment, "I underestimated you, my darling Amy." She stood, but before she left she didn't forget to hand me the last stack of photos.

Pandora and her unending piles of ball gown pictures could fuck the fuck off. And I meant it, fuck to the off. I was not going within a ten foot radius of that damn ball, I wasn't picking a damn ball ___gown_ and I needed to find a way to cancel the whole damn thing. She was not getting me in a dress. There was no way in heaven or hell that she would get me into one of those dresses. We were not in the eighteenth century, I was not some sort of damsel, I was not going to that god damn ball.

Which is why I ignored the knock on my bedroom door, and the second knock... And the third.

Loki appeared in front of me and my heart leapt into my throat with shock and I clutched my hand to my chest. So maybe it wasn't Pandora knocking... My face remained in a scowl and Loki merely raised an eyebrow at the pile of cards I had maturely thrown to the floor in a state of 'nope'.

"I am not stepping foot in that fucking ball," I muttered as my heart rate slowed.

"Are you not?"

I raised my eyebrows, "You are?"

He smiled, "I am."

This was the smallest small talk I had ever small talked.

"And I was hoping that you would accompany me."

"You mean..." I trailed off.

"Amelia Stark, will you allow me to escort you to Pandora's trademark ball?" He smirked.


	23. Chapter 23

___I was running. Panting. Barely breathing._

___Running so fast but it would never be fast enough, would it? I would never be enough. The end was inevitable._

___My breath was forced from my lungs in the darkness. I saw nothing, I was nothing. There was nothing. I had ceased running. I couldn't push myself any further. Push myself further from what? Why was I running?_

___My heart began to thump faster and faster as though preparing itself for a dive from an unseen cliff, my veins were the racetracks of extravagant blood vessels, my skin felt itchy as though it did not belong to me. Like my skeleton was breaking free._

___The small swell of fear that was being forced upon my body had began to grow but I would not let it win. It wasn't going to win. I was stronger than this. Stronger than her._

___She was coming._

___And she wasn't alone._

So I was going to the ball.

The whole week was a constant repeat of Pandora appearing at random times to ask me irrelevant questions about the damn thing. I didn't know why my input was needed - it was her ball. Apparently it was an annual thing for her, give or take a thousand years for the annual part. What did I care if there were floating chandeliers or bewitched candles illuminating the roof? Or if it should be masquerade... Or black and white... If she worried so much, why didn't she pick for her damn self?

On a brighter note, I was going to the stupid thing with Loki... Who I had only seen briefly which was highly unusual, I usually couldn't rid myself of the guy. We hadn't yet discussed anything involving the unfortunate mishaps that deemed the week explosive and if I was honest, I didn't really want to. We'd all lost our shit. Yeah okay, so Loki almost killed Stark but god of destruction and all that.

So maybe we ___did_ need to talk.

And not only that, I ignored whatever I felt for him. I neglected it and refused to believe the fact that I was capable of such poppycock - ignoring the fact that Peter Pan taught me that word and I thought it was outrageously stupid at the time - but more than that, I was scared for the outcome. I could admit that. This was Loki.

"Have you picked a dress?" Pandora's voice brought me out of my day dream.

I blinked to focus, "Yeah- I mean no. None of them are really..." I sighed, "I hate them all."

She chuckled and handed me the warm cup of something she was holding in her hand, "I have an idea, but in the mean time, try to loosen up. It's Christmas."

My jaw dropped open, "You're shitting me."

"Dinner at eight, don't be late."

I was feeling festive. Okay, so I did not know it was Christmas until Pandora had actually mentioned it and so I was bouncing down one of the hallways wondering where the year had gone and how much my life had dramatically changed due to a scheduled mystery in a car park, until I came to stop outside Thor's door. I hadn't seen the guy actually smile in a while - his face was made for smiling - when I had been first introduced to him, he wouldn't stop smiling and now... He was pure muscle sadness. I got him drunk to take down the Helliecarrier, so he may or may not have been feeling a little betrayed... I did what I had to do.

I walked past his door, trying to force myself to ignore that voice of reason in my head. I paused where I stood, sighing. Damn voice of reason. I brought my hand slowly to my face and called myself an idiot before turning around and stopping outside his door. I tapped my knuckles against it ever so lightly, a few seconds passed and I remained thoughtful that he either wasn't in his room or he hadn't heard, I almost walked on but the noise of the door knob turning brought me to a reluctant stand still.

The door opened and Thor's surprised face greeted me, "Is everything okay?"

"Do Asgardian's celebrate Christmas?" I asked suddenly.

That was not my reason for paying him a visit but a little god knowledge couldn't hurt. A little god knowledge could make me seem more intelligent considering I knew nothing when it came to him or his brother and how they came to be. Wasn't Thor a prince? It struck me as almost sad, how lonely Thor must be. His only brother disowned him, the human race had a price on his head, he didn't fit in with either Loki or Pandora due to his lack of magic and I could wager a bet that he and Stark didn't have anything to talk about. He was also the only true Asgardian, he had nothing home-related left and he was left with no other option but to join the gang of law-breaking bandits.

He was homesick.

He stepped back, opening his door further, "We do not celebrate Midgardian Christmas, for it celebrates the birth of a man we cease to believe. But we do celebrate that day."

"On what terms?" I asked and instead of entering his room, I slid down the wall opposite and sat on the floor. It seemed to be a comfort of mine.

"It is a celebration of a truce long ago formed, but I did not think such a thing would interest you." He stepped out of his room, closing the door and sitting opposite me in the large corridor.

I had a thing for informality and Thor looked grateful for company.

"A truce?" I pushed further.

"Yes," He informed, "Initiated by my fathers father to stop the civil war that almost tore Asgard apart from the inside. It was the cause of constant betrayal and treason though I fear the dust has merely settled."

"This war... Was it just between Asgardian's?"

Thor nodded, "The Aesir's of the north, which conforms of my great grandfather and his kin, and the Vanir of the south, they have never had a strong and willing leader; each person that comes to power within the Vanir regime is usually killed... By one of their own."

"These Vanir folk sound delightful," I muttered.

"They are not originally Asgardian, they are of Vanaheimr but evolution works in strange ways. The Vanir upon Vanaheimr remember the olde ways, they are beings of wisdom and power. One of my dearest friends are of Vanaheimr. But those Vanir who sought refuge in the ruins of the south have long since forgotten what it meant to be Vanir, most would say something poisoned them down there, as though they sold their souls in time of greed. They strayed from the paths of light and into those of dark and hollow." He stopped for a moment and I realised his eyes were more gleaming than that of before.

He had been so very lonely.

"The Aesir are wary around the Vanir of Vanaheimr but we have nothing to fear, for they are beings of honour." Thor sighed, "Amora is a Vanir, but she is of Southern Asgard. Most say that the Vanir of the South have long since forgotten righteousness and are slaves to nothing more than darkness."

"But you said Vanir were beings if wisdom? Darkness and a merciless fight for power is not the most wisest of things."

"You are right," Thor smiled a little, "Let it be clear that the Vanir of Vanaheimr and the Vanir of the south were once the same, but the Vanir of the South have long since lost what it means to be Vanir. They are referred to as slaves of evil for a reason, they are vicious... Vile. Obsessed with power."

"Sounds like Amora to me," I said with little enthusiasm.

"Amora is up to something... She is climbing her way to the top of the Vanir of the south, she is playing a dangerous game and yet I doubt she will fail." Thor paused, "She wants war again. Most southern Vanir are more than willing."

The noise of footsteps further up the corridor caught my attention and I glanced up to see Stark hesitantly walking down the corridor. I averted my gaze back to Thor who greeted Stark with a smile.

"Joining us?" Thor asked and Stark glanced at me but I said nothing.

Stark sat beside Thor, who continued, "She dreams of my fathers throne as most greedy do, but it is barely a dream for she will never claim it." He sighed, "It is rumoured that she follows The Order."

I frowned, "The Order?"

"Aye, but let's not divulge into that today. The Order is the conspiracy of the darkest roots of magic, so deep it corrupts the soul." He tried a smile, "It is the celebration of life today, is it not?"

"You mean Christmas?" Stark trailed.

"Call it what you like, I still get to drink." Thor pushed himself up with a smile, "See you later, as you people say."

I had a small feeling Thor left on purpose. Dick.

"Merry Christmas," Stark pursed his lips into an almost-smile.

I looked at him blankly before sighing, "Merry Christmas."

Pandora had given me an hour warning before dinner, she had ordered me to dress how I wished but respectable at least due to the guests. She had decided to brilliantly tell me that the dinner was in the main hall, hence the guests... Which meant it would be full to the brim with creatures I had only ever dreamt of. I used my time to shower but I became side tracked with the vast variety of strangely shaped soaps. The soap was glowing, seriously. Being friends with an alien definitely had it's perks... My only problem was that I had half an hour left and a wardrobe full of clothes. Dress respectable... What exactly was respectable?

There was going to be aliens. Fucking. Aliens.

To say that I was nervous was an understatement.

After almost shooting myself in the process, I gave up and grabbed something random as I exited . It wasn't until I dropped it on my bed, I realised it was an extravagantly red dress and I sighed. It was preppy to say the least. The red corset was plain and hooked at the back, it flared out at the skirt and the shoulders were of red lace... It was a pretty dress, but it wasn't exactly me.

When Pandora came knocking, I could only pace the space in front of the door, was I over dressed? Under dressed? The black heels I had on made me fear for my life. I was Christmassy to say the least. My heart was pounding and I stopped myself with the handle of the door, pulling it open hesitantly to see Pandora in a beautiful black, corseted dress and I stopped breathing for a moment with my jaw hung open.

There was a similar pattern to that of her intricate tattoo that lined the hem of the lace at the top of the dress, and I was certain that the skirt of the dress flared with a slight silver when ever she moved. Her hair was pulled back to run down her back in waves and the usual rings in her pointy ears had been changed to silvers spirals.

"Wow." She was definitely a pretty picture.

She smiled, "Thank you, my dear. I see you found the dress I left."

I felt awkward where I stood, too tall and bold in the black, pointy heels I was wearing. They were like ankle boots and breaking my neck was a high possibility, what was the point of heels?

"Amy Stark," Her eyes traveled to my feet and back to my head, "You look dazzling... Almost bewitching. I bet you'll be fighting off more than just one pair of eyes," She grinned, "Shall we?"

She held out her arm and I took it.

I hadn't yet been to the main part of Pandora's building, hotel, thing, but the moment I took step into the lobby of a sort, my eyes widened imminently. It was though I had gone back in time to when palace's were made of high roofs with gold podiums and tile flooring. The floor was emitting a slight heat but I had no time to adjust to the extravagant room as I realised I was stood at the top of the main staircase... And Pandora was gone. Nobody else seemed to be on the stairs and I came to the horrible realisation that most people were not allowed for when pairs of eyes on the floor below rose to me, I had to fight from turning my back and walking back the way I had came.

I hated Pandora.

There were many groups of people and my hand clasped the gold banister that led down the red carpeted stars. My hand was shaking slightly and I forced myself to breathe. Was I just supposed to walk down and mingle? I had stated they were people, I had meant non-earth people. I averted my gaze among everybody so that I would not stare at the range of people that stood fancily dressed before me.

Why were some of them looking at me in disbelief? Oh, right, yeah... I appeared to be the only human in sight. The relief that loosened my shoulders and allowed me to breathe again was when I saw the familiar, dark haired figure stand next to me. I glanced at him and he smiled smugly, looking too suave in his full blown armour.

He began to walk down the stairs and I joined him, not liking the likelihood of being alone, there must have been hundreds of people and yet I felt so out of place. We came to stop at the bottom of the stairs and not as many people were staring which made the burning in my stomach cool considerably.

"People were staring," I muttered, allowing my eyes to look Pandora again.

Loki let out an airy chuckle, "Well, you do look outstandingly beautiful."

The blush that I had been fighting down spread from my chest to my face and I looked elsewhere, "You do look rather charming yourself."

He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes ever so slightly.

Outer-space people were not as bad as fiction portrayed them to be. Granted I was highly uncomfortable in their presence; but when in the presence of a three-eyed, purple tinted woman who was dressed beyond elegance, which two eyes was I supposed to look at? I only had two eyes... I hoped to god I hadn't offended her she I asked, she did look slightly peeved.

The main hall was far larger than I had given credit, there was row after row of room-length wooden tables that were lined with chairs and candles. I remained stood next to Loki, which was mostly likely a bad idea considering he was finding it difficult to refrain from insulting people, apparently, and in turn they scowled at me. Thor had no difficulty for apparently there were other Aesir's present at tonight's dinner and Pandora was gliding between groups, making sure everyone felt welcome, before announcing that everybody was to sit on the table that matched the wing of the 'hotel' in which they were saying. She was very organised.

Myself, Loki, Thor, Stark and a select other people were seated on a smaller table at the end of the hall. There was one seat at the head of the table which was atypically Pandora's. I also learned that many of the people we had greeted respected both Thor and Loki and almost everybody seemed fond of Thor... Not the same could be said for Loki as he seemed to speak his mind no matter how criticizing the comment seemed to be. I feared for his life more than once, especially when he told the small, scaly man that his voice was worse than that of an animals screech and that he wished the man to shut up.

"The tables are organised in such a way that each being has a pick of food they can eat," Loki informed as he pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit down, "It would be rather awkward if a Sea Fae was sat on a table that held fish."

I obliged with a nod, ignoring the fact I was seated between both Loki and Thor, and Stark was sat after Thor. The seats opposite were taken by... A type of Elf, according to Thor. They had pale skin and white hair with high cheekbones to match and their eyes were of the palest blue, so pale they were almost white. Their bodies were long and thin, their fingers were also strangely long and thin - made for the use of magic, as Loki had told me in the cell. It appeared that what he had told me in the cell was true as the Elves welcomed Loki with open arms as though he was one of their own.

"Durothil?" I saw Loki's jaw open as he spoke, "Are my eyes deceiving me?"

The Elf opposite had been sat for a mere second when his reaction matched that of Loki's own, "My, my. Loki of Asgard. It's been a long time my friend."

Loki grinned as did the Elf before they stood and embraced each other over the table. All I could do was sit and watch in disbelief... Again.

Loki cocked his head slightly in question, "Halflar?"

The Elf shook his head, "He remains on Alfheim, we were found by a group of Vanir on the outskirts. One of them stuck him with an arrow, though I promise you they did not live to see another day."

"A simple arrow?" Loki's brows were furrowed and I could do nothing more than listen, intrigued.

The Elf sighed, "No. It was Ara tipped."

Loki's eyes narrowed for a moment, "I thought those were rounded and burned?"

"The Southern Vanir are growing in strength and number, more and more of them are being taken by The Order each day. Myself and Halflar were on a scouting quest by order of Odin when he was injured," The Elf leaned forward and hushed his tone, "There are whispers in Alfheim, Loki. Whispers concerning not only you, but Odin's place upon the throne... Whispers involving Amora."

I felt blessed to understand some of what the Elf was saying. I call that progress.

Loki paused for a moment, before glancing to me, "Halflar is a every close friend of mine, we have fought side by side more than once," He motioned across the table, "This is Durothil, Halflar's battle partner, and his husband."

Durothil bowed his head in greeting, "It is a pleasure, Miss...?"

"Oh, uh, Amy." I started, before sighing, "You said whispers involving Amora... Can I ask what you mean?"

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, "She is starting something. A revolution to some... Death to most."

I looked at Loki, both confusion and anger in my blood, "Then what does she want with me?"

Loki sighed and I felt his hand touch mine lightly on the table, "I do not know, but believe me when I say she needs to be stopped. And she will be."

"Amy," Durothil began, looking slightly bewildered at me, "You've had contact with Amora?"

"Uh-"

"Durothil," Loki interrupted, "May we discuss this later?"

Durothil bowed my head in obligation and I realised with a thought of 'duh' that he was a Light Elf. Once again, I had learned of them in the cell... Before the torture and Amora and-

I had neglected the fact that she had healed me just to... I felt the anger burn once again and revenge was definitely on my mind again. But how could I extract revenge on Amora? If everything I had learned about her was true, then I was fucked if I ever came face to face with her again. I mean seriously, she had magic and I stopped for a moment, sitting back in my seat. I needed to somehow gain an advantage. I was having Christmas dinner in a hall full of spacemen. Or aliens.

Pandora stood at the head of the table, and everybody fell silent, she clapped her hands once and smiled, "Thank you all, for it's not fun alone. Enjoy."

I was stood in the corner of the darkened room and watched the people who stood and talked, danced, sang and laughed. A few of the younger looking beings were running after one another and I felt the familiar Star Trek feeling once again and it made me think back to my first night upon the spaceship. Oh, how things had changed. My brain had been blown the moment I saw multiple Loki's looking down on my with that platonic smirk. How I had felt that peculiar entertainment with mocking his words... Which made me think, I bet the guards were having a party without their murderous god. The dinner was now a brilliant memory and Loki was with Durothil discussing how on earth their had paths crossed considering the circumstances and how Amora was practically raising an army whilst Odin sat idle - more weird stuff - and how the Southern Vanir were a race were worthless and unworthy of life upon Asgard.

So typical male alien things, but hey, it beat football.

Stark had found an inventor to interrogate and I had lost Thor.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I had found Pandora, though.

"It's a bit overwhelming, I need at least a week's notice before you throw something like this at me. Not a day's notice," I smiled, "But you sure know how to throw a party."

"That I do-" She stopped short and I turned to her in confusion, "Where is Loki?"

The clock on the mantlepiece chimed midnight and Pandora grabbed my arm as I shrugged, "He's with one of the Elf's, shall I go-"

"There's no time," She interrupted as she pushed me against the wall and I tried to ask her what the fuck she was doing.

I stood, frozen as I saw her scratch her palm with a hair pin, "Pandora-"

"Hush," She insisted. She suddenly placed her palm to my forehead, forcing my head backwards as she started saying something in a language I didn't understand. I was unable to move but I slowly felt myself become a lot more drowsy and I glanced down in shock as I felt myself go numb... As though I had been drugged. I stumbled backwards and in retaliation glanced down. My legs had fucking disappeared. And my arms for that matter. Where the fuck had my body gone? I was invisible. Completely and utterly transparent.

"Remain silent if you value breathing," Pandora said quietly and turned to stand in front of me in a protective manor.

The music that was playing drew to a sudden stop as a commotion at the front of the room could be heard. I heard a scream and a singular silenced shout as the crowd of people parted frantically to reveal two human looking men. They were pale - too pale - and their eyes were dark rimmed as though they were playing a part in a bad cliche movie. Vanir. In their hands they held long blades that shimmered and shone in the green light and they stopped, a couple of feet apart to reveal a blonde-

Amora.

I refrained from gasping. And shouting. And charging forward like the movie 300.

Pandora stepped forwards, "I do not recall you being on the guest list."

Amora cocked her head to the side eerily, a smirk pulling one side of her lips upwards, "I do not recall you housing Midgardian's."

People in the room began to mutter and I pressed myself back against the wall to refrain from trying to rip the hair from her head. Memories sprung behind my eyes. The dream. My mother. The torture. ___My mother._ The healing-breathe. Amelia. Breathe. The two men with the now green-glowing blades seemed to be the only other people I could find with the frantic wavering of my eyes, and Loki was still absent from anywhere within my sight. I could see Thor, who stepped out from the crowd and closer to Pandora.

"I don't think so," Amora held a finger up and Thor froze where he stood, before falling to his knees, and I took a step forward, "I am here for a certain someone, I don't doubt you know who she is." "Where are you," She hissed, "Human?"

I stepped forwards in both anger and shock but another figure joining Pandora's side stopped me. So I found Loki. I tried to move forward but I saw Loki splay his hand and I was forced back against the wall by another invisible force, unable to move an inch no matter how hard I tried. I tried to kick and I opened my mouth to try and shout but nothing left my lungs.

"Ah," Amora stepped forwards, "Hiding her, are we?"

She held up one of her hands and a sickly green glow began at her palm and suddenly the room was glowing green in small pulses... She was looking for me. I couldn't move. Loki stumbled back for a moment before I saw his hand flick to me again as though countering her magic. He fell to his knees in exhaustion and Pandora glanced at him in concern. Thor was still doubled over.

We were a mess.

"This is diseased magic, Amora." Pandora stepped forward, "It is ill, it will tear you apart."

"No," Amora smiled, "It will tear Amelia apart."

"What did you do?" Loki pushed through gritted teeth.

"It's a pity dark elves such as yourself, Pandora, are such an abomination," Amora teased and stepped closer to Thor, "This strain of magic doesn't effect you as it does him," She motioned to Loki, "I would take pleasure in killing you, but it can wait."

Amora wrapped her hand around Thor's arm and pulled him upwards and Loki let out a small growl. "Amy, I know you're here. Show yourself," Amora let her gaze search the room before it landed on a keeled over Loki, "I never expected you to hit such lows. I understand you may want to dominate the humans, they are easy. But her? Seriously, I'm disappointed in you."

Loki pushed himself up to glare at Amora, "Just jealous that she's everything you are not?"

My limbs had grown weak at my inevitability to push myself from the wall but I continued to try. She was going to kill someone. I needed to show myself.

Amora's smile fell, "You have seven days, Amelia Stark. I never expected such cowardice. Seven days, or the son of Odin dies."

I was not a coward - I was exploding with anger but I was stuck against this wall with no way of moving. All I could do was watch as she disappeared, taking not only the two henchmen with her, but Thor too.


	24. Chapter 24

It was as though a barrier had been dropped and I slid down the wall to the floor, being able to see my exhausted limbs once again. I was no longer transparent, that was fun. At least I knew my limbs were still existent. There was a ringing in my ears and my head felt fuzzy and discontented, I couldn't focus no matter how hard I tried, as though my brain was a slab of jelly. I could see Pandora help up Loki, he was still breathing - that was a good sign - and I pushed myself up with the help of the wall, leaning against it for support. I thoroughly remembered Amora's sinister smile like a scar on my mind.

___It will tear Amelia apart._

"Amy," A hand was on my shoulder but I maintained focus on breathing against the wall,"Can you hear me?"

I was turned by a pair of hands and Durothil's face came into view, I swayed a little but his hands gripped my shoulders, holding me up right. Why did most Elves have long hair? If it were not for his support, I would have fallen. I felt under water, everything was slow and muffled and I could feel my body wanting to give into the calm. To breathe in the water and welcome unconsciousness. To drown.

I jolted my eyes open and Durothil shook me slightly, "That's good. Amy, stay with me. Keep fighting."

Keep fighting. I was trying. I would not let it win. ___The inevitable end._ I was stronger than this!

"Amelia!" Loki's voice brought me back and Durothil allowed Loki to take me.

"Loki," Durothil's voice tinted warning, "Amora has infiltrated her mind."

"What?" I tried to force my legs to handle my own weight but I fell against Loki who held onto me.

It was as though I had been stripped of every last energy reserve and left with the aftermath. Loki reached out to Durothil and I found that we were back in the small common room. With the fire place. Warmth. Memory. ___It will tear Amelia apart._

"I explained our situation with Amora," Loki said to Durothil as he placed me on the sofa, "Will you help me?"

Durothil sighed, "Halflar would murder me if I were to say no. Of course, I shall try."

I tapped the side of my head subconsciously. Amora was had infiltrated my mind. What the hell did that mean? Was she in my head? Or just fucking with me?

"Amelia," Loki sat down next to me, "This is something you need to do alone. I cannot help."

"What do I have to do?" I rubbed my face with my hand in means of waking myself up. It wasn't working.

Durothil moved closer, "Amora's mind has connected with yours, you could say. For now, she can merely observe and cause dreams when you are not conscious. It must have been like this for quite some time."

"And later?" I pushed.

"And later, she will control a segment of your mind. You will not know right from wrong, reality from dream." He informed with a look of distaste, "Ridding yourself of this magic is difficult and sometimes painful... Very painful." He looked at Loki, "We were right. This magic... It has no place in reality. Amora has joined forces with The Order and she will only grow stronger."

"Not if we stop her," I tried jokingly, I could feel my alertness starting to pale, "Durothil, how does this work?"

"Dream igniting."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and Loki pursed his lips disdainfully.

Pandora had given me something to keep me awake - fucking alien drugs - like a pure caffeine dose, alien caffeine dose, but it also meant that I had a shit ton of excess energy that meant I almost bounced where I sat. I couldn't take it anymore, it was as though my skeleton was vibrating beneath my skin, in a desperate attempt to get rid of the energy. I jumped to my feet and began to pace. I needed to do something, anything, before I went insane. The mood swings were bad enough.

"Amy..." Stark trailed.

"Can we save this for later because I am really not in the right state of mind for this," I turned to him with a look of apology as I bounced on my toes.

Pandora chuckled a little, "The side effects change, Amy."

Loki entered the room with more herbs for Pandora, she was putting them in small vials - crushing and cutting others but draining them all into a separate flask. Apparently she was making something to help with the dream igniting bullshit but right now I was staring at Loki with wide eyes. She was right, the side effects did change.

I felt the sudden urge to grab Loki by the face and kiss him until my lips were raw - but I stopped myself, because that would have been beyond fucking embarrassing, and that resulted in me doing nothing more than staring. What the fuck had Pandora given me? I was feeling different stages of different emotions and hell to the no, I didn't 'emotion' well. He stared back with raised eyebrows and Pandora chuckled.

I believed the term I was looking for was hor-

"I need to-" I tried, "Could you excuse me for a moment?"

I turned on my heels and pushed my way out of the door, trying to put as much distance between myself and Loki as humanly possible at that moment in time. Why did he need to be so perfectly shaped and perfectly timed? And so ___god_ like? What was the need? I sped down one of the long hallways, but it was apparently impossible to escape the fucker due to the fact that he could teleport better than Scotty - again with the Stark Trek reference - and due to my fast, long strides, I collided with him, a full body blow. Awkward. And infuriating.

Those soft lips. I widened my eyes and spun, walking in the other direction. Not right now. No. And then I stopped. I felt very bipolar right about now. I wanted to grab Loki by the shoulders and shake the life-

"Amelia?" He appeared in front of me again. Fuck.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and he looked at me humorously at first with a raised eyebrow, "Loki," I shook his shoulders, "I just really, really appreciate your existence, you know."

The humour in his eyes dropped, and it was as though it had been replaced by complete nothing.

"And I'm sorry I haven't said this earlier, but you are not worthless. You're not what they say you are. You're brilliant. You're beautiful." I moved myself onto my tip toes and gently pressed my lips against his, my hands gripping his shoulders, "You are not a monster."

His startled expression made me smile, "I couldn't care if you were Jesus reincarnated," And then I stopped, "Don't judge me, it's Christmas. But the meaning remains, Loki," I put both my hands at either sides of his beautiful face, "Because it wouldn't change how I feel about you."

That was one way to have a heartsy talk. Either way I was fucked. What could possess a person to blurt such bullshit? I may as well have put a bow around my head and delivered myself to his doorstep. He didn't even have a doorste-

"Amelia, this is just Pandora's alchemy speak-"

"No," I shook my head, better now than ever and it just felt so right, "It's just making me blurt every stupid thing I tried so hard to keep from telling you. But this is it. I couldn't care if you were an Odinson, or a Laufeyson. All that I care about is that you are Loki, and nothing else matters." I lowered myself onto flat feet again, "That was really gay, I'm sorry."

I glanced at him, trying to get some sort of hint to what his reaction was, but all I had in turn was a slight bubble of anxiety due to his slightly furrowed brow. He wasn't looking at me, he was seemingly lost in thought and that worried me. He had put up the old facade and oh shit I was not fond, he was almost disbelieving of my drug induced words.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, Loki's eyes finally met mine as I mocked, "'Amora has infiltrated her brain' because to me it sounds awfully like a bad novel written by some low paid author."

Loki sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, "I should have realised sooner. The dreams... The Order-"

"What is that?" I interrupted, my mood jumping railroads again, "Because to me it sounds like a bad conspiracy."

"It is nothing to joke about," He countered, "It is an end to everything you have ever known."

"Meaning?"

His hand came to cup the side of my face, "Something that nobody will be safe from. They were but a myth to me - slaves to evil. To darkness. They wish to raise something so strong that the end of life will be inevitable if it is to survive."

"And they want to do that..." I trailed on, "Why?"

"Endless power. True power. Only those that are worthy in its eye will survive The Surge." He stepped away from me and we began to walk down the corridor, "The Surge is supposed to be the cleansing of the soul, but it is more of a poisoning of the soul and mind for no being should contain that much power and simply survive."

"Amora's magic... Was that-?"

"No," He replied, "That is only a speck of what she will contain if she is to succeed. Succeeding would be surviving The Surge, but it is said that this higher being cannot survive in our reality, it is pure energy, for that it would need a host sustainable of such power."

I sighed, "When did everything go so wrong?"

"When Amora found a threshold," He answered, his shoulder brushing against mine slightly, "She means to corrupt you. I don't know her reasoning anymore, she is completely insane. Amora is dealing in dark magic, without containment it would tear her apart and so in turn she planted that seed in you. The more magic she gains, the more it will rip at you from the inside, before your body simply can't handle it anymore."

"That sounds..." I rubbed one of my hands up my arm, "Delightful."

Loki turned to me, before pulling me into a tight embrace, "My little Amelia Stark, don't allow her to break your spirit. You have to defeat her, and you will. We will. Together."

I breathed in that scent of his, wanting to revel in it instead of returning to the subject of Amora, "But what if I can't? It's crazy. You are all expecting me to defeat her... In a dream. Do you know how impeccably crazy that is?"

"It is your dream, it is your fantasy. Learn to control it, change it," He lowered his head in the embrace, "I believe in you."

"That makes one of us," I replied, "And after... If I survive... We search for Thor, right?"

"Yes," Loki hesitated, "Whilst you are asleep, myself and Durothil will find him, fret not. Durothil has warriors trained in finding those taken by the Vanir, which fits our case perfectly."

"I'm not the one who's fretting," I smiled a little, "Blood or not, he's still your brother. I almost forgot, you asshole," I pulled back to look at him, "What was that stunt you pulled with the magic? I don't care if it was for my protection, I have my own brain and you shouldn't have restricted me like that."

Loki cocked his head to the left, "I am not apologising."

"You're such a dick," I scowled.

"What is my counter supposed to be to that?" He smirked, "It would be very strange to call a female a vag-"

"Whoa! No! Do not say that word," I interrupted frantically, "I am banning you from using that word. I do not want to hear your smooth, British voice saying ___that_."

He laughed, "What am I supposed to say, then?"

"Nothing concerning that word," I answered, "Okay? Okay. Got it? Good."

"If I must," He smirked.

I punched his stomach lightly, looking at the black tunic-like pirate thing, "I do prefer you in your strange clothes."

Loki smirked, leaning down until his mouth was level with my ear and I felt his hot breath against my neck, "___I_ prefer ___you_ with no clothes."

And just like that he turned and walked through the door, rejoining the others as my jaw dropped open and all I could do was watch him do so with butterflies exploding downwards. That bastard. I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts, straighten my clothes, cough a little and give myself a thorough talking to before following him in.

Almost instantly, Pandora was by my side, handing me a clear vial of liquid and asking me to lay on the sofa before I actually drinking it, unconsciousness was almost sudden apparently. But if I was understanding her correctly... I was to take the weird liquid, go to sleep and hope that Amora decided to attack my brain and in turn I must fight back. Mentally. In a made up dream land. In my own fucking la la land. I had to legitimately kill Amora in my head, to rid my brain of any string of connection she may have possibly conjured, I was clueless and yet I was still completely up for the chance of kicking her blonde ass. Amora just had a way of fucking shit up. And stealing gods. We needed to get Thor back but this came first, I didn't fancy the idea of her controlling my mind and Durothil seemed to have a distinct knowledge of what he was doing. He was an Elf. He looked intelligible.

My current life sounded like a distorted James Blunt song.

"It's not about strength or power," Stark began, almost desperate to help, but my sudden smile cut him off.

"It's about outsmarting," I smiled a little, memories in my mind, "Taking advantages."

"Even if she kicks you to the ground, don't give up, nothing stings more than a burn that won't stop." He returned my small smile.

"This is your mind, Amy," Pandora inferred, "She is on your territory, make her wish she never set foot there."

I nodded and popped the lid from the vial, but Loki touched my hand to stop me, "Give her a message from me," He smirked, "And make it hurt."

I downed the vial, with a small assumption of regret.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:Thank you all for your lovely reviews and favourites! They honestly make my day complete.**

This is my dream. My control. This was a survival of the fittest and I was definitely not the fittest, I was more the stay at home type but I wasn't afraid, I wasn't going to walk around with my arms in the air. I wasn't the fittest but I sure as hell wasn't afraid, I was prepared for taking whatever I could succumb. This was ___my_ dream. My brain. This was my fantasy. Mine. Not hers. She had no control. She was powerless. She was on my territory. This was not a matter to discuss. She could fuck the fuck off, or solely regret it. Should I give her a choice?

Ha.

My mind did have a way of fucking me over, though, for I stood in the living room of my used-to-be-house, it seemed to be in the state I had caused after the whole drunken ordeal. The house - I no longer had a home - was littered with broken glass and bloodied tissues and though I didn't didn't need the reminder of how much I had fucked up, I was sure as hell in for do or die and I tried to remember more about that eventful night. It was the night of the deadly glass and annoying mistakes. How different things would have been if I had accepted Stark's offer of running. I wasn't a runner, my time was overdue.

The sky visible outside the window was a dark red, almost like the sun was stuck mid-set and the clouds weren't moving. I had no pride to maintain, but acting as though I did had gotten me through life so far, so why not continue with the fuckery? There appeared to be no wind outside in my la la land for the tree in my garden didn't move an inch, not even a bristle. The thought of my mother reminded me why I was here, but how on earth was I supposed to find Amora? How did this thing even work? Did I just wish really hard for something?

___A donkey._

Apparently not. I moved to open the door but it was as though my world fell apart around me, fading to be replaced with a whole new surrounding and I found myself standing in the centre of a church; not only that, but the pews were lined with people, kneeled with their heads bowed in prayer and there was a priest at the front, frozen with one arm in the air leading the prayer. Nobody seemed to be moving, or breathing. I was stood in the centre of a frozen mass, looking for a Norse god who wanted my head. The irony.

"You petty humans, misinformed right from the start," The female voice echoed throughout the large hall and I turned towards it, "Did you really think that by putting 'amen' at the end of your pitiful sentences would send your words to someone?"

"Personally, I'm not religious." I searched the room with my eyes, scanning the rows of praying people until I saw the hooded figure, mimicking the other people, "But some people were just made to kneel."

She lifted her head slowly, blonde curls falling forward through the hood, "And others were made to be forced."

I took that as a signal to duck, a sickle green orb smashing into the wall behind me. I felt rather smart about that small slip beneath her blast of death, but it was stupid to feel smart when opposing a Norse head who either had serious attachment issues or just plainly wanted to eat your dead corpse for breakfast but to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if it was both. She was fucking crazy. I fell to my knees and crawled further forward as I heard her laugh. It made me want to stab myself in the ears.

"Quick thinking, but you can't outrun me," I heard her footsteps and stopped, "But it would pleasure me to see you try."

"You pervert," I said before lurching forward under the pew benches.

The place where I had been hiding was now a mere scotch mark and I let out a little sigh of relief as I crawled between the frozen bodies and out the back end of the pews. I peered over the pews to see her standing where the priest had once stood. He wasn't in sight. She killed my fictional priest. That bitch.

"At least I'm no coward," She smiled.

She was pulling the right strings. I had a thought of 'fuck it' and a peculiar burst of confidence.

"I am anything but," I slowly stood, preparing to dive from any unfair, diseased, green orbs, "I don't need any magic to hide behind."

"Dreams are magic," She lifted her hand, the tips of her fingers were surrounded by the sickly green glow, "The closest most humans will ever come to knowing real power."

"You sound like New York Loki..." Poor choice of words.

The left side of Amora's mouth twitched upward, "I am rather impressed. Nobody, not one soul, not even Odin himself, picked up on that. Now tell me, Amy, what do you know?"

"The tesseract..." Why should I tell her what I knew?

"Good," She interrupted as she hopped down to the aisle, looking too happy for someone who planned on killing millions of people.

"Loki has green eyes," I continued, edging slightly sideways to the large, metal candlestick holder. As long as I kept her talking, I could do something. I was adapting, "But not in New York, his actions were not entirely that of his own..."

My fingers were now wrapped around the base of the heavy candlestick holder and I heaved it with all of my strength over my head, it actually hit Amora - brilliantly - and she was knocked from balance and she gave out a surprised yelp, this gave me the opportunity to launch myself behind the large podium near the door entrance and I stood with my back pressed to it, listening intently. I needed defence because I was definitely failing at the attack side of things. My only weapon so far had been a candlestick holder, inventive. If I could only reach the door without being incinerated - I had no weapon, I was defenceless. I wasn't even cowering, I was trying to find something worthy of defence.

"Now I see it," I heard her crack something back in place, "I see what he sees in you."

"So it's not my endless wit?" I called out, unable to stop myself.

Amora chuckled, "I see how that would draw someone in, but no, unfortunately not. Did you appreciate the notions of gratitude I sent you?"

"You mean the dreams?" She wasn't taking my bright side spirit.

"I thought they were rather nightmarish..." Her voice was getting closer and I tried to rack my skull of something to find.

___This is your dream. Control it. If you really want it, it's yours._ What was that even supposed to mean? Ten out of ten there, Loki, great advice. Right now I could really do with a gun, or something. A grenade... Rocket launcher.

"My condolences, by the way," Amora dragged on, "I'm sure she was once a lovely woman."

Son of a bitch. What had I left to lose in this fucking dream land? She was already rooted deep into it, I just hoped I could remain from doing anything extremely reckless. With a sigh of 'for fucks sake' I stepped out from behind the podium, trying to remain hopeful to some extent. I had already let most of the people I knew down, well; those people weren't around to witness it, were they? For one, this fucker killed my mother and two, my father was out of reach. Right now was not time for my sentiment... But family is family.

"She was... Once," I answered as I stepped to face her, just wishing for any sort of weapon. Had I taken myself too far? Grown too big for my boots? The only card I had been left to play was myself.

"And your father, did he beg too?"

I launched myself at her with a growl, my shoulder digging into her rib cage and we both went tumbling into the pews, my head hit one of the wooden benches but I kept a tight grip on Amora's neck, pulling her in with all the strength I had. So much for not taking a reckless jump from a moving plane but she had woken me up, I was not afraid of death's song. I pulled my arms tighter and she began to splutter and I just held on. My arms soon gripped nothing but green smoke and I growled, trying to push myself up but her booted foot was planted on my chest and I couldn't move, no matter how hard I pushed, I remained on the ground. I could feel something sharp cutting into my back and I realised it felt as though something was in my back pocket.

So now my dream voodoo had finally started to work.

"The way I see it," I said through gritted teeth, "Is that you are too scared to face me on equal ground."

The foot was lifted and I took the opportunity to fill my lungs with needed oxygen, "Am I supposed to care about equality ?"

She brought her booted foot down, smashing into my ribs and I was positive I felt a crack vibrate through my body. Or a break. I wasn't certain, but the pain exploded like a bomb in my chest and forcing all air from my lungs. I felt myself fading out - waking up - but I fought against it, I wasn't done yet. All I had to do was concentrate, for once I was fighting my own battle and not running from it. I forced myself up, spluttering against the pain. It was a dream, the pain wasn't real. It wasn't real. I was okay. It wasn't real.

And the pain faded.

In a swift movement, I grabbed whatever sharp object was - it turned out to be a knife - and brought it around in a swift motion, burying it into the side of her ankle. I was very satisfied as I felt it crunch through fully, definitely severing important things and rendering her foot useless. She roared, retaliating backwards but taking my knife with her. I needed that. She yanked it out with a hiss.

"You will regret that," She spat, pointing the knife at me.

I shrugged, pulling myself up and jumping behind one of the pews to put some distance between us both, "I tend to regret a lot of things."

"Does he make you feel more worthy of life?" She began with a snarl, limping towards me, "Something more than human?"

"Sometimes," I smirked, "But I am rather fond of his soft-"

I dropped to my knees, the green bolt of energy missing by a few centimetres. Best not to tease the snake. I'd rather chop it's fucking head off.

"It's a pity this is a dream, I would love to see that petty life of yours drain from your eyes."

I stood back up - ___a weapon would be fabulous_ - but kept a wide eye on every movement she made. I knew I couldn't die, but it still hurt like fuck and that magic of hers looked diseased to say the least. I could almost feel that it was unnatural, if I recalled correctly then magic was a natural thing. That's how fae were created by Elves... This magic was the opposite of natural, it was cold-turkey artificial and it disrupted anything that should have been. One touch looked enough to poison the mind.

"You really have an obsession with the word petty..." I trailed on.

___Any sort of weapon._

She shrugged, "Everything is beneath me."

"Is that why you joined The Order?" I pushed.

"Do not speak of The Order as though you know anything about it," She hissed, oh I touched a nerve, "Your mortal life is meaningless."

"Ah," I mocked surprise, "But you see, Loki told me all about your little gang of outcasts. It's like everyone with the most fucked up flaws decided to throw a pity party."

The lopsided smile took place on her face again, I did not like that one bit, "That's why I took Thor."

I froze, "What?"

"That's right," She grinned, "Killing me would be too easy for you, but killing one of your own..." She hissed a sarcastic breath in, "That's unfortunate."

Loki had said this higher being had needed a host... Thor. I needed to tell Loki. But I was fucking sleeping.

"I had planned on using Loki... But then you got in the way and, well," She coked her head to the side, watching my reactions, "I want to see if Loki is capable of killing his 'brother'. Did he ever tell you about his true heritage."

He hadn't. Why hadn't he told me? She wouldn't plant doubt in my mind but she definitely flipped my inquisitive switch.

"I know that he and Thor-"

"Aren't actual brothers," She interrupted with a look of amusement, "But you don't know how... Do you? He never told you," She blew out a breath mockingly, "Poor, naive you. Shall I tell you? Oh, how he'd be thriving with anger if I were to tell you," She stepped closer until suddenly her hand was in my hair and she yanked me back with a yelp, "Little Amy, human Amy, ___worthless_ Amy. Do I dare to enrage the god?"

She pulled my hair back, exposing all of my neck and I found it hard to maintain balance, "But I have already enraged him, haven't I? By hurting his human. Because that's all you are, an object to be used and disposed of but I'm sorry darling, you've expired your use by date. I hurt ___his_ human. You didn't scream though... You didn't break," She placed the blood covered knife to my throat, "You didn't beg."

"I am aware," I let out, trying to remain stood still in the awkward position.

"Do you really want to know the secret? His secret?" She traced the knife along my windpipe, applying the smallest amount of pressure, "Why he has no family? Aren't you at all curious?"

I remained silently breathing, any slight movement could cause her to sever anything below the skin surface of my neck and I didn't look forward to finally knowing what it felt like to bleed to death, but she wouldn't stop talking.

"You do," I could head the sinister smile in her voice, "He is a monster. A real, living, breathing, monster. I don't mean in the emotional sense, because that would be hypocritical of me, wouldn't it? He's the little drama queen, sly and curious... Lack of emotion, should I say? But I'm not talking about that. Beneath that skin of his," She moved to stand behind me, the knife lingering on my neck and her mouth moving closer to me ear, "Is not what you see on the surface, for that is an illusion... A lie. The trickster's disguise. Not even Thor has seen his true form and I? Neither have I."

She wasn't making any sense. I knew that Loki was somewhat adopted, shall we say? Unwillingly taken from another planet, granted, but they had raised him nonetheless. It didn't mean that Odin sounded likable because everything that I had heard about him made me despise him, I didn't question why Loki was so pissed. It wasn't my business. I didn't care. It didn't matter... Did it?

"What do you know of the Frostgiants? She asked, removing the knife from my throat.

Realising that she wanted me to answer, I coughed and straightened my posture, to turn my head and try and glimpse the likeliness of her stabbing me in the back, "Jotunheim."

"I'm impressed," She swirled the knife in her hand, her voice turning deep and mocking, "On one dark and gruesome night on which many lives were lost, a small baby was born," She moved around me and I remained stood still, "A kin too small to be that of a Frostgiant, but too cold to be anything else. In the ruins of an old temple where dear old Odin sought refuge, a baby's cry was heard. Too Aesir to be a Frostgiant..."

"But too cold to be anything else." I finished, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"Did it never bother you, that his skin is cool to the touch? Or that he doesn't feel the cold?" She stopped in front of me, "He is the cold."

"You're lying."

"That would be logical, but no. Loki is a Frostgiant, but he even failed in that department. He's hardly giant," She scoffed, "He is a monster."

"Why? How does that make him a monster?" I pushed out, I needed reasoning.

"My, my. You are peculiar," She paused, "Or just plain stupid."

"I'd vote stupid," I contested, my eye catching the glint of something shiny on the floor, beneath one of the broken benches, "I'm standing in a room with a Norse god who, by the looks of it, is jealous of my relationship with another Norse god... Should I call Jerry Springer?"

Misunderstanding of my modern reference she faltered in her snarling facial expression, she didn't like the word 'jealousy' by the looks of it. Advantage number one. I dived for the shiny object, which just happened to be a lightweight, paper sharp sword. My imagination definitely had its perks, I doubted myself too much. Amora had also dived for me, thankfully remaining oblivious to the sword. I moved it upwards and to the front of me, protecting myself just as she collided with me. She jumped back in surprise and pain at the large gash I had caused her to receive and blood poured from her stomach, it wouldn't be enough to kill a human and she could heal. Advantage number two. Without giving her time to register my movement, I brought my leg forward to kneel on and brought the sword down on her arm, almost severing it completely from the limb. She actually screamed and tried to move away. She must have preferred her arm being attached to her body. Advantage number three. I swung my leg a few inches from the ground in a circular movement, catching beneath her feet and successfully planting my elbow to her nose. She fell backwards and hit the floor and I wasted no time. She bled a lot.

Advantage number four, how could she cast magic with no hands?

With a wince of maybe 'too far', but desperate times called for desperate measures, I brought the sword through one of her wrists and ignored the blood as I did the same to the other. She was now screaming and I mocked her previous actions by planting my boot on her chest and maneuvering most of my weight to keeping her laid there, though I doubted she could do much with the lack of two hands. She was swearing at me, presumably in another language but it didn't register as I tried to think everything through. She had the darkest magic, darkness... Her hands would probably grow back, which was rather gross.

But this was my dream.

I repeatedly thought the same sentence to myself; ___She is powerless. Rendered useless._ And it seemed to work as she stopped thrashing around to stare at me wide eyed. I had finally figured out how this strange voodoo worked - I had to physically imagine it for it to be mine. I could do that. I looked down on her with pure disgust, this was a woman who had torn a part of me apart, planted fear within me and killed someone of matter to me. Though I had no right to even be angry about my mother's death, I was angry at her at the time, but what else could I do? She was dead. He was dead. They did there best.

Stark would eventually die.

"I feel sorry for you," I spat down at her, "You're not worth anything to anyone. You chose this path for yourself and the consequences will come."

I removed my foot, imagining the joining of thousands of particles and surprisingly enough it worked, a large slab of concrete conjured itself onto Amora's chest and I stepped back, keeping a careful eye on her. I slid down the podium, still finding it hard to breathe from when she had booted me; there was probably a way to fix all of this, but I didn't ponder on the fact. I had to kill Amora here to rid her connections with my brain. I hoped it hurt her, but there were too many ways I could think of to kill her. I wanted her to suffer, and so I thought of my murder weapon repeatedly.

Amora began to laugh, almost in hysterics and it made me want to shoot either her or myself in the head.

"I completely forgot about that! How could I have possible forgotten?" She turned her head as far as she could from being laid flat on her back, "But you already know, don't you? Little Amy already knows that something dark has fucked up in the deep of her lovers mind."

"He's not my lover," I almost rolled my eyes, it was my only retort to the curiosity she had caused.

She was going slightly crazy.

"His eyes are green," She mocked and I stood, "But they are not always green, are they?"

"No," I stated firmly and obviously, "They're not."

"And nobody else has seemed to witness it. Pure brilliance, that's what it is... Pure insanity." She chuckled, "Not even he knows."

"Are you going to keep all the secrets to yourself?" I asked, feeling the new, leather strap integrate around my shoulder. The only way I knew I could make her talk would be to push it, and I was rather great at pushing people over their patience barrier, "Or should I simply kill myself? You are boring me."

Her smile fell as she looked up at me, "What is that around your shoulder?"

It was my turn to smile down on her, "You don't want to know," I pressed the tip of my boot to her cheek, "___Darling._"

"You will all burn," She spat, "Each and every one of you."

I raised an eyebrow, "Not if we burn you, first."

She laughed, again. I hated her laugh.

"It's not me you will have to burn," She smirked, "Could you do it? Could you kill him?"

"Why would I-"

"It must be so boring in that small mind of yours, what could you possibly do for fun?" She kept her gaze on me, "Your knowledge is limited, how one glimpse into an Infinity Stone could blow it... Quite literally. Loki seems to be cracking already. Do you notice it?" She shifted beneath the heavy rock, "Do you see it? The small twitches of snapping? The loss of morale? The glimpses of insanity? His time is almost out... Until," She smiled, "Snap, he's gone."

"He will either die, or succumb to it," She laid back, seemingly out of pain, "I'd rather him succumb to it, the look of surprise on your face will be priceless when he kills you. Because he doesn't know it, and he never will. He will explode... Tick tock," She smirked, "His time is running out."

"I don't like you," I said down to her handless body, "I really don't." I sat down next to her head and she watched me warily, "But you made a mistake, Amora. This is my territory, and you will regret ever ___touching_ me. You know this is a dream, it makes it all the more fun that I'm in control because," I scrunched up my nose for a moment, "I'm going to really enjoy this."

I took the strap from my shoulder, thankful when I saw the small collection of arrows in the holster. She gave me a questioning look and I smiled, "I was told you know of these arrows... They're Ara tipped."

She froze.

"You see, I know they're deadly to Light Elves. Beautiful creatures, are they not? Well, I remember hearing that one arrow is deadly to not only Elves, but Vanir too," I smirked down at her, "Thank you for that knowledge, by the way."

I slid one of the arrows from it's holster, running my hand up it teasingly, the black wood was smooth to the particle, not one splinter out of place. The silver arrowhead was tipped in a black liquid that smelled like burning and I gave Amora a slightly sympathetic look, complete mockery. I put the holster to the side and placed it next to her face. One arrow would kill her... But like I said, my dream.

"I almost want to give you the sympathy option of, you know, instant death. Can I ask you a question?" I moved the arrow closer to her, satisfied how she moved away as much as she could beneath the weight of the cement, she opened her mouth but I held the arrow head above it, shutting her up, "I couldn't care for an answer because I'm going to ask you anyway. Did you give my mother the sympathy option? Was she even aware of who you were... Or why you appeared to rid her of life?" I paused, "Or did you leave her cowering in the dark, clueless and oblivious to who you were? Did you leave her, frightened and oblivious? You did... Didn't you?"

Amora nodded slightly and I shrugged, "I didn't beg. Will you beg? I heard Ara poison was the worst type to ever encounter... For Vanir. It's illegal within the nine realms. How could your army of dimwits possibly come across them?"

I wasn't exactly bothered about the answer, it was more rhetorical, but I lowered the arrow down to her neck. I enjoyed the power play.

"We have a supplier, an Outcast." She said it as though she didn't care, "The Other."

I sighed, "I don't really care-"

"You should," She interrupted, "He works for the most powerful being in our universe. Before The Surge, of course. But I'm sure Loki told you all about that," She teased with a smirk.

"This is a token of my appreciation," I moved the arrow to the side of her torso that was visible,"Blame it on my sick humanity. I guess you could think of me as a different breed..."

I pushed it into her and she ground her head back into the ground to refrain from screaming out. I saw her eyes flutter close, "No, I don't think so."

Her eyes flung open again and I grinned a little, she dies... If I allowed it.

"Should I call help for you? The choices. Should I kill you right now?" I moved my head over hers so that she could see me, "The funny thing is, you came here, not me. How weak did you think me to be? I could reek havoc here, cause an apocalypse... Welcome to my head, dear. And you know what sucks? It looks like you're going to need to find a different 'host' for your teenage resurrection bullshit, because you picked the wrong brother to take."

"This planet had 7 billion people, most of who scrounge in greed." She said through gritted teeth, "I could take any one of them."

I raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "This thing you're supposed to worship, I'm sure it would be largely accommodated within a human meat suit."

"You're right," She stopped struggling, "Maybe I could take you... You have a strong mind, and I'm certain your soul has many sins on its ledger. Perfect."

"Though I am largely flattered by your interest, I would like to see you try." I pulled out another arrow, pushing it in aside its comrade and twisting it happily.

I could hear a hissing sound coming from her wounds and I sounded as though I ran a slaughter house. I pressed the tip of a different arrow to her face, seeing the skin instantly burn beneath it before pushing it through her one of her shoulder blades... Maybe I should stop. But I felt the need to avenge myself. I could feel her life beneath my own skin, my will was the reason she was alive, all I had to do was let go and she would be in the most unbearable, muscle ripping pain ever possible before she would die.

"Does it not phase you?" She spat, "That he's a monster? It's who he is... Or that his mind is poisoned? Without the right process, he will die... Or you will all die. Either way I will enjoy the show."

She was getting a desperate, I sighed, "Is that all you have?"

"He's a Frostgiant." She snapped.

"I am not overly certain as to what that is..." I trailed off, dropping one of the arrows onto her chest and watching it burn through the skin, "They tried to destroy this planet... Loki also tried that. Is it supposed to make me feel fucking bad? I swear, people need to stop thinking I care."

"But you do care..." Amora hissed, "That's your weakness. You stupid girl."

"And you know what your weakness is?" I cocked my head to the side, "You're fucking insane."

I let go.

She screamed.


	26. Chapter 26

I awoke with a startle as though life had been thrown into each cell within my body unwillingly; which in turn caused me to shoot straight upwards from where I lay on the sofa, into a sitting position but my head collided with that of another's, pain exploded behind my eyes leaving me to hold my head in my hands.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned.

I heard another groan and snapped my head to see Loki in a similar situation to me and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What possessed you to wake like that?" He held a hand to his head.

"Excuse me, don't sit so close to me," I tutted, "Respect the personal bubble."

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Well you're not panicking nor are you bleeding, job successful?"

I smirked at him, "Job perfectly done, though I should probably lock my windows before going to sleep tonight... Amora might be really pissed."

"And you think simple locks on a glass window will suffice as protection?" Loki mused.

"Unless you're offering a means of a accompanying me-"

"Okaaaaaaaaay," Pandora interrupted, "Leave that until later, preferably when I'm not in the room. Thank you, my darlings."

"How was it?" Durothil asked from opposite Pandora at the small, circular table they were sat at... They were playing a game of cards with what it appeared to be small sheets of metal.

Nobody seemed to be extravagantly worried, so I figured this could have gone a whole different way, and so Amora probably awoke unpleasantly... Maybe screaming in pain. I fucking hoped so. They looked relieved that I hadn't awoken with a scream or cry and I wondered if I had been sleep talking.

"Well... She's dead. In my head, I mean."

"Oooh," Pandora awed, still looking to the shiny pieces of metal, "How did you manage that?"

"Uh..." I trailed on, my head was still groggy from the sleep but the dream was very vivid, "Imaginary Ara tipped arrows and a large block of cement mixed with a paperweight sword and there you have it, my dream. Oh, and a loss of two hands."

Pandora lifted her eyes from where they were on the metal slowly to look at me, Durothil's jaw opened slightly and Loki leaned forward with wide-eyed.

"Like I said, she's going to skin me alive," I nodded, "But you all look content, how'd the Thor hunt go?"

"He's resting," Stark's head had popped around the door.

"Well, it looks like we kicked her ass." I yawned, that seemed almost too easy, but Durothil had literally taken a small army of Elves.

Moral of the story, do not fuck with Elves. I leant back on the sofa and pulling the blanket to my chest with a small wonder of how long it had taken.

"No, we only defended what we had lost and regained our status." Loki contradicted.

"For just once," I sighed at him, "Can I pretend like it's been a good day? We got Thor back, I found out a shit ton of information and had a small torture session with my least favourite Norse god," I looked at Loki humorously, "Don't worry, you're still my favourite."

He scoffed, "Why would I worry? Of course I am."

"I'm gonna head to bed..." Stark began and I gave him a small smile, he returned it with a surprised raise of eyebrows before returning the smile and sliding away.

I ignored the weird looks everyone gave me, "Pandora, do you have alien alcohol?"

Loki said, "No." Just as Pandora said, "Of course."

"Great," I grinned and Loki sighed, so I mimicked him, "Why won't you join my victory party?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You mean your party of one?"

"Well, it could be two." I suggested, before remembering, "Oh, Durothil." He looked up irritably, wanting to return to his game with Pandora, "Psht, don't take that tone with me. I found out who's supplying The Vanir with the arrows."

He widened his eyes, "Is it-"

"He's calls himself The Other," I interrupted as I stood up, Loki froze, "And he's An Outcast. He serves Amora's apparent leader."

"Thanos." Loki stated firmly and I turned to him questionably, "After I fell from The Bifrost, I became part of the darkest depths of the universe, home to The Outcasts."

I nodded in remembrance, "The Alcatraz of the outer dimension."

He smiled at me, as though happy I had remembered such a minute detail but the hollow look soon returned, "Not going into detail, the Tesseract was what he wanted, it was my job to get it, and I failed-"

"Oh, shit." I interrupted, "Oh shit."

___"His time is almost out... Until, snap, he's gone. He will either die, or succumb to it."_

Pandora was looking at me, concerned, "Uh, Amy? Do you need to sit down?" I sat down, "Okay, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Amora said that one glimpse into an Infinity Stone for me would break my mind," I rethought what she had said thoroughly, "But, then she said that Loki already seemed to be cracking..." I turned to him, "That your time is running out."

"This is Amora we're talking about," He said calmly.

I shook my head, "No, Loki. Your eyes. It makes sense."

He stood, "This is madness-"

"Loki," Pandora interrupted sternly, "What did Thanos do to you?"

Durothil had put down his peculiar metal sheets, as had Pandora. All I could do was stare helplessly.

He clenched his jaw, "I am not talking to you about that."

"Loki." She repeated.

"I am not speaking to anybody about anything concerning it." His eyes had hardened and his body posture had stiffened.

Pandora stared at him, and he stared back until I gave up and pulled Loki from where he stood to sit next to me on the sofa. He protested but I shook my head, he needed to relax.

"I want you to answer one thing," Pandora stated solemnly, "Did you look into it?"

"He gave me two options, Pandora." His eyes drifted back to meet hers guiltily as I stood to get myself a drink from the jug on Pandora's table, "Believe me, the latter was the lesser appealing."

Pandora exploded, "You didn't look into it... Loki! You fool! It is pure energy!" She stood up at her place on the table and I awkwardly decided I didn't need a drink, "Pure power, running into the blood of your ancestors!"

He sighed, "Believe me, I know."

"It will kill you." She stated.

Just as I stumped my toe on the hardwood chair and I felt the horrible split second as I awaited the pain to kick in... I was only wearing socks and that hurt like a mother fucker. I gasped and clasped my foot, hopping for a couple of seconds before letting out the most embarrassing, internal groan, "Fucking hell! Why the fuck does that stupid fucking thing always happen to me?" The pain was pulsing up my foot and it may have been the most unbearable pain I had yet to encounter, "That dick of a chair."

What I did not expect was for Loki to laugh at me, and he did, he laughed quite contently and I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, it wasn't exactly the time to be laughing concerning what the current subject of discussion was, but his airy laugh was highly infectious and I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as I hopped over to the sofa, dropping myself down.

"Loki," Pandora warned, he took my hand into his, "We must get back the Tesseract."

"As much as I love contradicting you, Amora," Loki trailed patterns on the back of my hand, "You're right. But to do that, we'd need Odin's word."

"Then we get Odin's word." I stated.

Durothil snorted and Loki chuckled, "If it were that simple. If only it were that simple."

"Wait until I meet that guy," I mumbled under my breath.

"That's what worries me," He sighed, "If you remember, I escaped from my cell in Asgard, I highly doubt that Odin would allow me re-entry if I were to simply bat my eyelashes, even if he were to help, he would want me imprisoned afterwards."

Durothil whislted, "Escaping Asgard. That is definitely worth an award, Halflar would consider it a challenge."

That was not the first time that Durothil had brought up Halflar in pride, they were married. I thought it was adorable. Elves.

"I hope I meet this Halflar," I said in honesty.

"Oh, gods, no. I can imagine it," Loki sighed, "You two would be an explosion. I do not think that idea is logical."

I narrowed my eyes, "Now I have to meet the guy."

"You are definitely in luck, young Amy," Durothil laughed, "For he rejoins me the morn after next."

"So... Two days time..." I trailed on.

"Exactly."

I snorted, "Okay, Legolas."

And then Pandora snorted, giving me a small thumbs up.

Durothil furrowed his eyebrows, "I do not understand."

"Nor do I..." Loki agreed.

"I think I'm heading to bed..." I stood up to stretch my arms above my head, "Or in hunt of alcohol, that sleep didn't do me any good. Either way, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can I join you?" Loki asked.

"Don't trust me with a little alcohol?" I smirked.

He shrugged, "I will probably find you unconscious behind the bar if I allow you to venture alone."

My mouth dropped open, "There's a bar?!"

"Why did I open my mouth?" He sighed.

The bar - which was empty, no bartender either - had a range of human alcohol pumps which I neglected fully and headed to the cabinet containing glass bottles of a variety of spirits, there was a row of brandy and whiskey... I settled with whiskey. A bottle.

I sat on one of the bar stools and I handed him a different bottle but he didn't seem to care, "So... Who is Thanos?"

"He is the strongest being to exist in this reality, both in his magic wielding and physical strength," Loki sighed, "I cannot tell you much more for I do not know. What happened with Amora?"

"Once I had figured out how the Lucid Dreaming worked, I rendered her useless," I took a sip of the burning whiskey, "And gained a little revenge of my own."

"The Ara tipped arrows?" He mused.

"It was a last minute realisation," I put the bottle on the bar to look at him, "I didn't allow her the blessing of death until I had grown bored."

He took a sip from the bottle, "And you're okay with it all?"

I looked at him, "Yes... I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable before, I was having these really peculiar mood swings-"

"It is okay," He interrupted with a sly smile, "It takes a lot more than that to make me uncomfortable."

"I meant it though." I continued.

"Amelia-"

"And I know you think that I don't know you," I talked over him, "And you're right. Kind of. No, you're a little wrong. I don't know everything about you, I don't know each happening in your life, granted. Amora told me some things, but I just wanted to clarify that it's okay," I took his hand, "That all of it is okay. And even when you don't want to speak about it, it's okay."

He pulled his hand out of my grip and I furrowed my eyebrows, "You should have run from me the moment your gut told you to."

"No," I sighed, "I make my own deductions. I make my own assumptions. I make my own mistakes but you know what? I make my own choices. And I am fond of you, Loki Laufeyson," I kept my gaze unblinking, "You can be a Shakespearean fucker, but do not doubt that your past, your choices and any mistakes - or things that other people see as mistakes, like world domination - you have made... It will not change my opinion on you."

He looked away, "And what of the choices I am still yet to make?"

"When we get to that bridge." I said firmly.

"What did Amora tell you?" He asked, warily.

I wasn't sure how to word anything that had jumbled in my brain, but I was sick and tired of the continuous cycle that was our relationship, our friendship... Companionship? I couldn't even put a label on what we were to one another because it changed so frequently and I had decided long ago that I wouldn't fight anything that I felt because it always resulted in stupid decisions. We do not talk about the glass.

"Things that you should be the one to tell," I decided.

His hand clenched on the bottle, "Oh."

"I don't know most of what she said in detail..." I sighed, how was I supposed to drill into him that I ran out of fucks to give years ago? "But one day."

He remained silent, refusing to look at me. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, I wasn't aware what a Frostgiant was exactly, but surely I had seen worse on British TV.

"Can you freeze shit?" I asked, completely random.

He lifted his gaze to meet mine, surprise visible, "I haven't tried."

I shrugged, "I would definitely try, I think you should try it sometime. It would be a great defence mechanism."

He swirled the bottle in his hand, "I may."

I brushed my fingers against his cheek, the skin was only cool to the touch, "You're not exactly freezing."

"Is that good?"

I smiled, "You'd make a great cuddling partner in the summer."

He stayed silent and I just wanted to slap him across the face with a big fist of 'Loki, stop being so idiotic', because he was. He was so deep in a sea of deep hate that he couldn't see I didn't give a shit. It's what we do, what we say and the actions we take that determine who we are, so the fact he hated who he was inside clouded his vision of accepting that other people didn't see it that way. I was proud of that deduction to say the least.

"You can't feel the cold?" I asked out of curiosity, not knowing what would take it too far.

"No, I know when it is cold," He put a hand to the side of his cheek where I had previously touched, "And if it's too cold. But I cannot feel it."

"And your true form?" I pushed.

"Amelia." He warned.

That was the line.

"Loki," I waited until he looked at me, "Are you not understanding that I can find something to work with, no matter what?"

"And it does not matter to you?" He put the bottle down on the table with a thud and I jumped slightly due to the noise, "That beneath my skin is that monstrosity?"

And there we have it, his self-opinion, "I think your opinion is different to mine."

"The Frostgiants tore realms apart, they are the terrors of most child's nightmares for not many faced one and lived to tell the tale," He turned to stare at me, his facial expression hardened, "I was brought up on horror stories concerning them."

"Myself and Odin need a stern talk..."

He scoffed, "You are impossible."

"You are still beautiful." I shrugged, I wasn't phased, not one bit.

"I am not!" He brought his fist down next to the bottle and I closed my mouth, "Don't you see? I'm different, I always have been." He lowered his voice, "I have never been the same, I thought it was because I wielded magic and they combat... But it's because of who I am, inside."

"I don't like you for your great looks alone," I tried, desperate for anything to let him know it was okay - why didn't he understand?

"When I was a child, I thrived for fitting in," He turned away, "I never pretended, I just tried. It never worked."

"I can relate..."

He snapped his head to glare at me, "If you saw me, you'd turn your back. Everything I would touch would freeze. That is what a Frostgiant does. I am a monster. And that fact will never be different. It will always be there."

"I don't think you understand what I mean-"

"I don't want this..." He paused, "This burden! You would be scared, Amelia. I am unnatural, an abomination you would say. No matter how much I pretend otherwise, I am this monster, I can feel it in my chest, I cannot escape it. I will never be able to escape it." His gaze fell, "I am it."

I pulled him into my arms, squeezing his tense posture. I was seeing a part of Loki that no-one had seen before, he had seen me at my worst - crying, full of fear. He had seen me dying; he had saved me and not once had he disappointed me, not once had he let me down in our small regime of eternal selfishness. Loki had changed me, I was so blind before.

I had kissed those lips, I remembered his smell, he was my comfort. Loki was my comfort, and I had never found comfort in another person, and to think that that would change due to who he was by birth? No, nothing would take away everything I remembered by him. It was my turn to see him at his worst, I wouldn't be overly pissed about being in the same room as him... That was a large development for me.

I was not going to allow anything to change that.

"No, Loki," I said, his head pulled to my chest, "I am human. And I hate that. I hate it to my very core. At least you have the ability to pretend to be something different. You have shown me so much more, you have showed me what's worth living for. What I'm trying to say is," I lowered my head to lay it on his, he didn't seem to pull away, "I am not as shallow to love you for your appearance."

"Even if it is who I am?" He mumbled into my chest.

"Yes, Loki." I confirmed.

He sat back, but remained relatively close, "No, you haven't seen it-"

I sighed, "Then let me."

He pulled away, "No."

"Loki, let me in," I put my hand to the side of his face, "Please."

"No, Amelia." His words were barely audible.

I was staring into his green irises, and for the first time, I could see pure emotion, everything that he had tried to shelter from me; every little thing that he kept inside and part of me felt bad for breaking Loki open, but I could see it, in the way his face was no longer tensed - his usual facade was gone, and it hurt. It hurt to see how much he was hurting... That was the most stupid thing I had ever conjured, but I wanted him to put himself back together. He was only like this for the moment, any one word I could say could cause him to repel away from me and that would be it, I would have destroyed everything.

"Loki, you have no excuses," I continued trying, "If it's as bad as you say then why not get it out the way?"

"Amelia-"

"That is my name," I interrupted, "Now, let me have a look at you. I'll close my eyes if it helps, will it help?"

"No," He pushed after clenching his jaw.

I shrugged, "It's your choice."

He sighed, "Close your eyes.

My heart jumped for a moment and I allowed my eyes to fall closed... I was nervous, excited and maybe a little worried but hey, what's the worst that could happen?

"Open."

I opened my eyes and my jaw dropped open as though closing it was a distant memory. I slid from my bar stool to walk around him in a small semicircle before stepping forward. He flinched for a moment but I kept my movements calm and slow, lifting my fingers to trace along the intricate scarring that ran down his neck. His blue neck. His skin was blue, cooler to the touch and more rough as though very thick... Almost lizard like, but more alive.

I took his hand into mine to see that nothing except it's appearance had changed. His hand was blue and the same peculiar scarring ran down the back of it, and I touched my palm to his palm. His hand was the same size. The fingernails looked as though they had been painted a metallic black, and his long fingers looked all the more pristine.

I traced my eyes up his arm, to the bottom of his neck before eventually letting them trace every inch of his face. His hair was the same, but his eyes. His eyes were... Plain beautiful. The whole of his eye was red, the irises were an even ___redder_ shade of red, if it was even possible. They gleamed in the light and I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away.

I was speechless. Never before had I been at such a loss for words, but this man had rendered my tongue useless. His jaw bones were the exact same, and I could definitely tell that it was Loki. He was angelic in the most peculiar of ways. I had no indication of how to react, but his posture was still rigid.

He looked the same, but bluer, and colder. He was beautiful, it was definitely true.

I raised up onto my toes and pressed my lips to his before allowing my tongue to trace his lower lip, his lips were softer and radiated a small cold, it wasn't too cold, it was almost magical.

I took a steady breath in, "If you ever, ___ever_, call yourself a monster again, I will personally, and happily, smite you." I took a step back to try and take every inch of his appearance in, "You, Loki Laufeyson, are fucking beautiful. I do not care if it is different; you look the same, but different."

He remained silent, watching me carefully as though weighing my words. He was in disbelief, obviously un-expecting of my words and in doubt that what I had was, in fact true. Which was a huge understatement for nothing would ever compare to what my eyes were seeing.

"I have no words," I sat next to him once again, "I cannot even begin to decipher the words to explain what you have done to my brain. I'm sorry I pushed you into this, but you are such a drama queen."

His eyebrows furrowed and I saw his skin change, "It's not a laughing matter."

He was back to his usual godly appearance.

"I'm not laughing. You are prettier than anyone else I've ever seen," I tutted.

"Prettier?" He scoffed.

I grinned, "Exquisite. Elegant. Stunning-"

"Okay," He let out a steady breath, "I understand your opinion."

"Alluring." I stated.

"Alluring...?" He raised an eyebrow, lifting the bottle to his lips.

I shrugged, "It's definitely a turn on."

He choked on the liquid in his mouth and I smirked, clinking my bottle with his before taking a swig of it and grinning at how the night's events had taken a turn for the better for once in my life, nobody had died - Amora did not count - nobody was hurt, and I had learnt that Loki was not only of the purest beauty, but he was such a

"And you're still not even tipsy?" I glowered at him over the top of my bottle.

"No," He smiled sweetly, "You are, though."

"Yeah..." I trailed off, "But I'm not drunk. Stark tolerance, remember."

He snorted, "I remember."

I sighed, downing the last of my liquid, "I'm bored. And tired."

We stood and walked to the exit of the room and I didn't even sway, I understood that I had a high alcohol tolerance but he had consumed twice as much as I had, he should have been at least a little tipsy, but no, the god of fuckery strikes again. He held open the door for me and I saluted him jokingly as I walked through and into the long hallway.

By the time we had reached my bedroom door - which was a good twenty minutes of walking because I may have, completely purposefully, taken a wrong turn which resulted in me having no clue where we had ended - my alcohol had worn off.

I frowned in disbelief, "They need to make stronger alcohol so I don't end up drowning myself in it."

"Either way you'd find a way to drown yourself in it." He said reasonably.

I nodded in agreement, "Most likely."

"You were great," He said quietly, "I didn't tell you earlier... The stunts you pulled with Amora, but you surprised me."

"You underestimate me, godling." I playfully punched his arm and his lips twitched into a smile before I frowned, "She screamed."

He smirked, "I doubt you feel bad, but that is impressive."

"After all she has done? I was evening the tables, and I would happily even them a little more," I leaned back onto my door, shrugging, "At the end of the day, family is all we have. They have no choice in the matter of liking you."

He placed a kiss to the top of my head and stepped away with a small smile, "Goodnight, Amelia."

"Is that offer accompanying me still on the table?" I stopped him.

He turned back to me, "Always."

**A/N: You guys aren't afraid of a little smut, right?**


	27. Chapter 27

As I opened my door, a small plan began to form itself in my mind. Not just any plan, but something that could go explicitly wrong or extravagantly well, either way, the adrenaline in my veins had started to increase and my heartbeat was slightly palpated, it had been a good day and well... What else could I say? It was about time someone made the move.

"Well, are you coming in, or not?" I called out after realising he hadn't followed me into my bedroom.

"Are you not getting changed?" He replied with a hint of humour.

I snorted, "That never stopped you before."

"I was just respect-"

I opened the door and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to pull him into the room and his surprised yelp was extremely amusing.

The room had a television, it wasn't anything extravagant like that of Stark Tower, but it was enough to watch a simple movie upon and I had a specific movie in mind, as well as a curiosity to express.

"Have you ever watched a movie?" I questioned, moving towards my wardrobe.

"A what?" His eyebrows were furrowed and I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, we're watching a movie."

I moved aside the duty of pyjamas and switched on the television with a smirk as he watched me, his curiosity growing; what did they do on Asgard for entertainment? I understood wholeheartedly that television was complete bullshit and a large waste of valuable time, but surely they must have had some form of getting news around. It was simple enough to see that it was not television that Asgardian's had because Loki scoffed at the screen from where we sat upon my bed.

"And this is human fun?" He raised an eyebrow, "This is outstandingly fake."

Our backs were leant against the headrest, we were sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder and I had to agree with him upon the aspect, but the film was made in 1985 and so graphics were not its upmost forte, or the terrible acting for that matter. Or the storyline.

I silently moved my hand to his thigh, "I'll have you know that Star Trek is a classic."

"That's that nonsense that-"

I moved my hand closer to his crotch and I heard his breathing hitch as he stared at me - I kept my gaze in the television screen.

"Amelia?" He began steadily.

"What?" I remained innocent.

"Don't do-" His own moan interrupted the words as I lightly ran one finger tip down his bulge.

I hadn't planned on moving so fast, but when someone says 'don't' I automatically test my boundaries and oh was this fucker a fun guy to tease.

I smiled, before moving my lips as close to his ear as was manageable due to our positions, "Don't do what?"

He turned his head to look at me, almost scowling but a sense of game in his eyes and I allowed my lips to lightly trace his jaw bone, not kissing, not even pursing my lips against his skin, just teasingly tickling his skin with that of my lips. He tried to move into the soft touch and I pulled away with a smirk, returning my eyes to the movie, he swallowed before trying to do the same and another small thought came to mind... My bra strap had fallen down my right shoulder, it was too late to back out of the game I had started.

I slowly ran my hand over the bare skin on my chest, making a scene of pulling the bra up very slowly, skimming my hand across my skin. I refrained from smirking as I felt his eyes on me, half intrigued, half agitated at what I was doing, tracing my fingers lightly over my collarbone.

"Ah, this is my favourite part," I grinned, and he sighed, averting his gaze back to the television.

He refused to give in to my teasing's but I could see he was not allowing himself to become victim to his sex drive, I hated how stubborn he could be. I didn't plan on caving first, either. I flickered my eyes to him ever so slightly in the dim lit room - Loki apparently knew how the damn lighting system worked - and I noticed the remote was on the bedside table next to him. Another thought springing to mind. I was enjoying myself. I had to pause and think for a moment with a thought of 'fuck it' as I naturally manoeuvred myself on to all fours to reach for the remote, taking advantage of the fact I was wearing a vest, my bra was not visible but to the right angle, eyes could easily see down the hem.

I was going to be a cliche motherfucker but the god needed to take a hint.

My back was arched and I placed my hand just above the hem of his trousers, lightly touching my fingers to the skin that was visible of his lower abdomen. I reached for the remote with my other hand and he shifted beneath me, resisting the urge of playing my game which made me smirk all the more. I was balanced on him as I wrapped my hand slowly around the remote and moved backwards.

Loki had other plans.

In a swift motion he brought his hand up and caught both of my hands in his one hand and pushed me backwards so fast I let out a yelp as he pinned my two arms above my head. He smiled down at me as I pushed a little but my arms didn't move, I was stuck there until he decided otherwise. His lips twitched into his trademark smirk as he lowered himself mockingly towards my face. I felt goosebumps rise upon my skin as his hot breath hit my neck and I arched slightly into the feeling, needing to feel some contact, any contact, with his body.

His lips were so close to my ear I could hear each and every single breath of air he took, "I've had quite enough of your teasing, darling."

"Is that so?" I breathed out slowly.

I felt his tongue trail slowly down to the curve of my neck slowly and a moan escaped my unwilling lips as he bit down, pulling the piece of skin between his teeth slightly, and I arched my back until my body touched his but he pushed me back down with his other hand I let out a whimper at the lack of contact. He began to trail his rough kisses up to my mouth and I was more than willing to kiss those soft lips of his.

He tried to gain entry to my mouth with his tongue but I kept my mouth closed, it was the only one thing I remained control over, until he growled and bit down on my bottom lip so hard that I gasped in pain, opening my mouth and his tongue slid into my mouth, entwining his tongue with mine. I was certain I could taste my own blood. I was completely helpless against his hands and I wanted nothing more than skin on skin contact with him but he held me to the bed, so maybe teasing the god of mischief was not the smartest idea that I'd ever had concerning my current situation.

I appeared to have no say in the matter as he removed his lips from mine to pull my shirt over my head, in a matter of moments my vest was gone from sight, leaving me in my bra; the thought of worrisome scars was lost in the moment, the dim light resulted in them being invisible anyhow.

"I think you need to remove your shirt..." I trailed off, panting slightly.

"Do I now?" He raised an eyebrow.

I scoffed, "I am not begging."

"Have it your way," He smirked.

He removed his hands from pinning my arms above my head but I still couldn't seem to move them, I pulled with all my might for a moment, no luck prevailing. I panicked for a moment before I saw his devious smirk and my jaw dropped open, the fucker had used magic on me. Each cell in my body was ecstatic with ecstasy as trailed his fingers over my chest lightly and my skin tingled, he slowly walked his fingers down the centre of my breasts and I gasped as his fingers continued to walk their way down my stomach and to the hem of my trousers teasingly.

"I, personally, have had enough of these."

With one tug of his hand, my trousers were pulled down to my ankles and dropped to the floor and my whole being thrived with lust. His fingers continued their journey downwards.

"You cannot, seriously, remain fully clothed," I panted slowly as to pronounce my words properly though my mind would rather concentrate on those long, slender fingers of his.

His smile spread across his face, lust also eminent in his eyes, "Are you prepared to beg? You were the one who started this. Do not play a game you will always lose."

His hand slid further down atop my underwear and I squirmed beneath his touch, panting before a loud moan escaped my lips as I felt his fingers brush my clit, granted it was above underwear but the sensation that exploded in the pit of my stomach made me thrive for skin on skin contact with him.

"Loki-" I moaned, "Just-"

"Prepared for begging, my love?" He began stroke me through my underwear.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Please," I breathed out, barely audible.

"I didn't quite hear that," He slyly smirked.

"Please, Loki," I whimpered, swallowing my dignity as another flood of sensation drowned out my thoughts.

Okay so this wasn't going how I planned, I was already run over by lust and I was going to regret giving in. I'd rather hear him beg.

"As you wish."

My arms came free and I sighed in relief, forcing myself to sit. Within moments I had rendered his shirt gone, I manoeuvred onto my knees to capture his lips with mine. He chuckled but I didn't bother commenting, I caught the hint of - fuck knows why - oranges, and I was not over the fact that he tasted like... Fruit.

I undid the clasp at the front of his trousers, sliding my hands in as our tongues continued to entwine, but the moment my hand clasped his semi-hard bulge, he pulled away to gasp. I moved my head to his neck, biting slightly but continuing my hand movements. His trousers dropped due to them being unclasped, he took a moment to get off the bed and fully remove them. As he did so, overwhelmed by lust, I crawled over to the edge of the bed ushering him to remove them faster. He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled, forcing me to stand. His hands travelled from my back down to my ass before he cupped either side with his large hands, lifting me from the ground. I wrapped my legs around his lean torso as he slowly turned to press me against the wall.

He began to trace kisses along my jaw, moving down my neck - leaving bruises, he brought his lips back up to mine and once again, our tongues entwined. He carried me to the bed, but sat down which resulted in me straddling his thighs, I could feel his hard member against my inner thigh, he lay back flat, not breaking our kiss once. I hooked my thumbs into the black material that was his underwear, I pulled them down and tossed them away, seeing the way his green eyes glimmered in the dim light, they watched me with lust and I had never been happier to be with someone in my life, I smiled for a moment, before he switched our positions to remove my underwear.

He paused for a moment, as though waiting for my disapproval but I just nodded and within moment, we were pressed to one another, our kisses increased speed and I ended up on my back, Loki was the one to break the kiss, breathing heavily. The feeling of his skin upon mine was overwhelming, but it was not something I would ever forget.

He tucked a strand of my hair behind me ear and ignored my furrowed eyebrows, "Amelia, are you sure you want this?"

"Loki, I wouldn't be here if I wanted otherwise."

He smiled small, "I am honestly glad."

I ran my hand down his thigh slowly, before lifting my head to plant kisses on his neck. There was a small taste of sweat due to our heated movements, Loki slid between my thighs and then I realised..

"Uh... Loki?" I bit my lip in confusion for a moment, "Do we need protection... Or something?"

Loki chuckled. "Amelia darling, I am a god equivalent. Do you really think I need protection?"

"Yes. Yes you do, absolutely." I said, bringing myself to rest on my elbows before winking, "Who knows what sort of diseases you carry?"

"Well, it is not particularly needed... But, if it will make you more comfortable." He replied, a hint of humour in his emerald eyes, "Considering we are a completely different species, nothing extravagant could happen."

He closed his palm for a mere couple of seconds, before opening it to reveal the foil packaging to which he ripped open and I grinned in victory at him. I took it from him and he looked at me in surprise, but as soon as my fingers came into contact with his awaiting shaft, he moved into the touch as I unrolled the latex material and his eyes rolled, lost in pleasure.

Once again, Loki slid between my thighs. I gasped in pleasure as he entered me, finally fulfilling my need for him. I let out a moan and gripped both of my arms in the bed sheets as an immense feeling exploded within me. He was gentle as he manoeuvred his weight above, careful not to not cause pain as his length reached it's full depth. He allowed me to adjust before he slowly thrust his hips against mine, sliding in and out, starting slowly. The pleasure was almost unbearable. I dug my nails into his back, dragging my hands downwards in sensation, leaving claw marks across his muscular surface which only caused him further pleasure. This seemed to fuel him further, his speed began to increase and I shut my eyes, letting pleasure rule my body, adrenaline coursing through my veins in a constant cycle of thrusts and moans.

I began to move my hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with those of my own. Another bubble of explosion erupted in the pit of my stomach, it resulted in my teeth biting down on Loki's bottom lip; he moaned into the kiss and our pace began to speed up. Each thrust caused immeasurable bliss to multiply within me.

Loki was not my first, but he was by far my best.

I could feel the build up of butterflies and I arched my back in contempt as Loki pulled out fully, before thrusting in completely and I moaned loud enough to make my voice hoarse, my head thrown back in the midst of my hair and the feeling of Loki's mouth destroying my neck overpowered any other emotion I had ever felt.

I dragged my nails down his back, unknowing of where to put my hands. I tangle one of my hands into his dark hair and tugged him down, Loki let out a ragged breath an thrust harder then before causing me to cry out. I learned that tugging his hair was definitely a peeve to him. I kissed the soft part of his neck and he moaned once more.

I felt him adjust his angle and I remained oblivious until he hit ___the_ spot. With each thrust I cried out continuously and I could tell that I was close, Loki moved his hands above my head and the image of Loki above me, hot and sweaty with his hair stuck to his face staring at me with those lust filled eyes almost pushed me over the edge.

"Oh, god," I breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, "I'm going to-"

"Look at me," I heard him say amidst being lost in sensation, "I want to see you at your moment."

And that was it.

Each cell in my body flooded with ecstasy as I arched my back into the mattress with a loud moan, I dug my nails into the back of his shoulders of his shoulders and I clenched my thighs around him, he let out a small growl as he came in unison and I moaned my loudest as every thought in my mind turned unholy. We both rode out our climax in a mixture of pants and moans.

Loki removed himself and let himself fall to the side of me, my chest was rising and falling rapidly as I remained stuck in the high of the orgasm and I flickered my eyes to him to see him laid on his side, arm folded and his head balanced upon his hand as he watched me carefully with a smile on his face. His breathing was slightly escalated but there wasn't much more and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"So does the whole Aesir thing mean that you can..."

"Complete round 2? Yes, yes I can. But if you're tired I completely understand." He smirked at me as he completed my sentence.

My jaw dropped, was he challenging me..? It was fact that the female sex drive lasted far longer than that of a male, but this was a god. And he accused me of-

Challenge accepted, "You're saying you could last longer than I?" I looked up at my from where I lay, "You fucking wish."


End file.
